


Not a Succulent but...

by Anonymous



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Murder, Biology Inaccuracies, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Science, Flowers, Gardens & Gardening, Intersex, M/M, Mystery, Plant/Human Hybrid, Plants, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-05-27 19:53:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15032027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “They serve the purpose of changing hydrogen into breathable oxygen, and they’re as necessary here as the air is on earth.”AU where the name “Ren” is hauntingly appropriate and Akechi doesn’t know if he’s speaking to Ren or the flower.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Emetophobia (nothing happens but it’s thought about), description of a person that seems dead but isn’t ???, maybe gross descriptions of bodies in general...
> 
>  
> 
> I made a yt playlistie for this fic [Here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLsl0gOwLZG25ab5PmFN0T1hnGhTnmTPiX)

After a long pause Sae takes her hand away from her chin. “If you don’t have the time to care for a pet. Why not a plant?”

“Ah yes,” Goro says, easily slipping into civil chatter mode. “I see succulents have been quite trendy as of late.” 

“Yes,” Sae says nodding. “The last time I went on a business trip Makoto got one and a money tree. She told me they were good company.”

“I’ll think about it,” Goro says. He says that.

At this rate he doesn’t know what can get him out of his head when he’s home alone. To continue trying seems like too much effort as well.

When he has the TV on as ambient noise his ears and brain latch on to the voices and the words they say. If he got a pet or plant it’d just be another item to pencil into his hectic schedule.

While he has this schedule he tells himself he’ll abide by, the nature of the cosmos still manages to throw him off kilter. Throws him extra time originating from a grey space where Goro ends up in the oddest places doing the oddest things.

Today it’s Inokashira Park.

After ‘work’ Goro sits on a bench in Inokashira Park with a coconut bun. Should have gone straight home he did. Everyone should have done a lot of things. However the thought of being on a packed train at that particular moment was especially distasteful. 

A strong gust blows through the park, rustling the trees and the leaves, rippling the waters, and propelling a few lily pads. A few lily pads and then a large pink blossom. 

Goro raises an eyebrow. Generally there were no lily pads or large flowers in the lake. Aside from being choked up by loose cherry blossom petals in the spring the lake was usually completely clear.

Upon further inspection Goro finds those are no lily pads, and that is no lily with them. Floating to a gradual stop at the bank before his toes is a huge lotus accompanied by even bigger leaf pads. 

Funny. He can disregard it. In fact it would be prudent for him to brush the thought away from his overencumbered brain. He can disregard it, but since when has Goro ever acted in his own best interest?

Glancing around the park turns up a few other late park-goers, all very far away and engrossed in chatter or walking. He places the remainder of the bun aside and looks to the water. Darkening skies and murky waters aren’t an ideal combo to observe. 

There’s a penlight in his case.

Goro looks around the lake. It’d stick out bad. However there is a long branch on the ground next to the bench. 

It’s just a flower, nothing remarkable but it’s weird. A rich thought coming from someone who regularly ran wild through people’s distorted imaginations. Tip toeing to the edge of the bank Goro squints hard at the lake, willing his sight to tread the depths. Be it eye strain or a bout of brief mania a pale shape emerges below the edge of leaf pad. Likely a lotus tuber swaying in the current. 

Rusty dusty gears in a dark corner of Goro’s mind get cranking. 

The next course of action his inquisitive detective brain provides him is to grab the branch. He pokes it into the water, small circles echo out from the point of entry. Further and further he reaches until his arm is fully stretched, the tuber is deceptively deep under.

Thankfully the branch makes contact before any concerns of falling into the lake creep up on him. 

Whatever the branch hits seems much softer than a lotus tuber. The universe allows Goro one second to be bothered by the discovery, then suddenly his heart jolts with enough force to sear a brand behind his sternum. 

The pale thing deep in the lake lashes out like the pumping of a fish’s gills or the clawing of webbed grippers. It yanks the branch, by some miracle Goro’s numb fingers keep their grip.

The numbness spreads through his body and chills his heart, he chokes out a sound he doesn’t care to recall. A large fish? What the hell kind of fish can hold a branch like this though?

_Nessy!?_

His brain splits in half, one part scolds him for this whole foolish venture, the other part rocketing between terror and childlike wonder. His id wins out. Keeping a steady grip on the branch, Goro’s mind scrambles to drudge up all his fishing knowledge. 

Fishing, that’s the activity he’s engaged in with the Inokashira Park-ness monster.

One had to be careful while reeling in their catch. Too gentle and the fish would take off with the bait, too hard and the line would be yanked away from the fish. So Goro tries to keep his ‘reeling’ to a comfortable medium, however beyond the initial grab the creature didn’t seem interested in struggling. If this was the creature’s weight he was pulling then it must be a very disturbing size indeed.

Icing the top of a strange cake was the trembling of the leaf pads and the lotus blossom with Goro’s actions.

Enough tugging gets the thing closer to the surface. What he thought to be four bright red eyes turns out to be four bright red buttons on a black sleeve, the ‘pale thing’ a hand. Goro swallows hard, he knew all too well some things were better left in the shadows (or murky depths). His already spasming heart goes into overdrive, every alarm in his body goes off. Drop the branch, fuck the lotus, none of it was important. There was a reason this _person?_ was floating around in the lake and the less Goro knew about it the better.

Despite it all his idiot hands and arms keep tugging. 

His mind blanks out and the next time he checks into reality his gloved hands are an inch away from a pale fist clenched tight around the branch.

A shriek rips itself from his throat, his hands still don’t let go. The insides of his gloves are an ice cold clammy mess. The bluish grey fist, attached to an arm in a black sleeve with four buttons. He doesn’t want to look beyond the arm.

Goro’s whole body trembles violently down to his toes, his hands don’t let go.

By most popular definitions he’d be termed a monster, Akechi Goro himself would be the first to label himself as such. 

Yes, he’s done things, but monsters are not exempt from blood curdling terror.

And when he had being doing things, the way he had done them ranked up there in the cleanest way to do them. 

His head fizzles out again, and when it fizzles back in, he discovers his cold clammy hands to be firmly gripping a colder clammier wrist. 

The next time his mind blanks out his hind brain retains enough awareness to dread what’s next.

Dread ends up being a body. A cold body outside of the Metaverse sporting a Shujin high school winter uniform. 

An incredibly bizarre body at that. A zipper runs along its back and Goro will keep referring to it as it until he either calms down or it proves itself to be otherwise or both. A mass of stems, roots, and a single tuber hang from the unzipped cavity of the person’s? back. There might be things other than lotus bits, but if he looks any closer at the cavity he absolutely will lose that coconut bun he just ate.

So he has this cold heavy body attached to a mass of roots.

He can’t carry a body on his bike, let alone a body with all this shit hanging out of it. Goro ignores the detail about the body being able to hold onto things tightly. Even if he could coerce it to hold onto him for the duration of the ride it would probably come at the cost of Goro ever sleeping again.

A taxi it would be. Now he was back on the issue he’d been avoiding.

The stems and roots were pouring out of an unzipped cavity on the body’s back, he had long ago come to the conclusion to be drawn from that.

‘Stop,’ a voice in head pulses. 

It’s masochistic, he’s wearing down his body trying to keep his panic reigned in and stomach acid down. 

For the life of him he couldn’t say why he wants to mess with this flower so bad. In this situation ‘want’ isn’t the appropriate term but Goro can’t come up with anything else. Perhaps he’s a better detective than he gives himself credit for. If this hellish curiosity isn’t on par with that of a good investigator nothing is.

In, out. Rise, fall. Expand, compress.

Goro takes a few deep breaths, until the coconut bun settles out of the danger zone. 

Thank thank thank _Heaven_ for the gloves. They don’t do much to brace his hands for how frighteningly cold the body is but they afford him a small reassurance nonetheless. He shapes his hand like a claw, to rake the plant back into the cavity. It doesn’t even look like it will all fit inside. 

He has half a mind to cut off some of the bulky lotus tuber but a part of him worries about the plant being vital organs in lieu of the actual thing. Where does the plant end and the person? begin, what is the plant and what is the person?, all questions he currently had no desire to answer.

There must be a black hole inside the person?. Jamming the tuber, the blossom, the leaves, and all the stems back in happens with far too much ease. Especially considering Goro can’t bear to keep his eyes on the task at hand.

Squeezing his eyes shut tight enough for spots to dance behind his lids, Goro braces a hand on the person’s? lower back and slowly zips them back up then pulls their sweater down to cover it all.

It’d be nice if he could have shut his ears too.

The body is contained. Goro falls back onto his bum panting, he’s going to burn these gloves after today. He prepares to hail a taxi.

While his central apartment isn’t far from the park, it still ends up being the longest taxi ride of his life. The driver is mercifully silent, spares them once glance and decides to keep it shut for the benefit of them all. 

It didn’t have to be something heinous, he reasoned with himself. They were coming upon the unholy hour. Goro was a good boy helping a gremlin friend get home. 

He waves the illusion away scoffing. If only.

Tipping the driver handsomely, it takes Goro a painfully long few minutes to get the body, his briefcase, and his bike out of the car. 

Regret. At some point he got too deep in to think about regret. That applies to a lot of aspects in his life. When did mistakes stop being mistakes?

Goro shuts his eyes and sighs. After chaining his bike downstairs he bit the inside of his cheek and slung the body over his shoulder. It wasn’t just these gloves he would have to burn after today.

Compartmentalising. Goro excels at compartmentalising. So he takes the roiling nausea, his endlessly plummeting heart, the spiralling dread, and boxes it all up then tamps it down. 

Walking into his flat he sets down his briefcase. He takes the body to the bathroom and sets it on the floor then props its back against the wall. It’s the first time he sees the person’s? face. Bit grey bit blue. 

White hot lightning flashes through his head for a moment. His scalp sizzles, his eyes sting.

Not yet, he couldn’t fall apart for a long time yet. Does he address the plant or the person? first? 

Goro twists the hot faucet on the bathtub, warmth was probably something both sides needed. His gloved hands dart to the person’s? jacket then falter at the tiny red buttons fastening the jacket shut. 

It’s pointless, his hands are definitely wet inside the gloves. Not only with his cold sweat either.

He keeps them on anyway and tears the jacket open. It comes off easy enough, revealing suspenders and a neatly tucked in turtleneck. He pulls off the suspenders and drops them with a clatter. To his surprise the turtleneck goes just as easy as the jacket, but not without making horrendous schlupping sounds through the process. Curiously the back of the sweater is already ripped. 

Goro could have missed the sound of it tearing over the blood pounding in his ears, but never mind that.

Much too soon for comfort Goro once again faces the zipper, he doesn’t have to deal with it just yet. He adjusts the faucet to pour cold water.

He blinks and moves his hands elsewhere, divesting the body of trousers and socks. Perhaps the shoes were lost in whatever event landed the body into the lake.

By now the tub is on the warmer side of lukewarm, and Goro needs to deal with that zipper. Presumably the roots would have to be out in the water for them to… Do whatever roots did for a large person shaped lotus. 

He rolls the body face down, braces a hand on the back of its neck with one hand and starts pulling the zipper. 

Whatever meagre composure he had regained goes flying back out the door. By the lake in the dark Goro had been spared of gritty details. The well lit bathroom illuminates the rust on the zipper. Each tooth of the zipper pops open with a sickeningly thick fleshy sound that echoes off of smooth tiled walls. 

Worst of all it’s a fight to pull the zipper back down.

Bits of blossom, leaf, and root pop back out as Goro opens the cavity up. Under the bright light the plant doesn’t look so hot. It could be a cause to look into plant food or fertiliser, but would that harm the human?

At long last he gets the zipper to the end, having to dip a bit below the underwear band to do so. Goro was already going to be sick, he’s going to be super sick.

He all but dumps the body in the tub and hastily staggers out of the bathroom. Throwing his gloves and coat onto the floor along the way. 

Making a stop in the kitchen he cranks the sink and waits for it to scald him. After a few soapings in warm water his hands are a bit pink. 

It’s a welcome sight, the first of the day. 

Bit by bit his breathing evens out, his heart untangles itself from his throat and gently settles back in its rightful place. 

Breathing in deep, it hits him that he can’t smell anything but sweet flowers. He’s going to be super mega sick.

Goro valiantly tries to hold on to logic through the whole situation. Firing up his laptop he gets three windows going with tons of tabs each. How to care for lotuses, fish, and people who might have hypothermia who may have already drowned to death. Those last two are a bit iffy but it’s been a stressful day.

Eventually he closes the fish window because that seems the least relevant to the person? he dragged home. The other two windows follow in short order and he shuts his laptop altogether. A rare occasion where he isn’t informed, and doesn’t want to be informed. 

Goro sighs and sinks into the armchair. A voice in him screams to get his ass back onto the rails the thing in the tub knocked him off of. Turn out all the lights, change into pyjamas, get into bed.

If he doesn’t do his evening skincare routine there would be hell to pay in the morning.

In that specific moment he can’t bring himself to care about any of it. He switches the lamp off, plunging the living room into darkness. 

It’s too dark to see, his house reeks of flowers, and his mutinous brain won’t stop beaming choice moments of the past few hours on insides of his eyelids.

His head feels numb and heavy.

Funny how he’d spent that afternoon saying that he didn’t care to adopt a succulent and here he was adopting a freak corpse flower. Sometimes company isn’t a choice. In situations where one can choose, sometimes one could choose to sabotage themselves.

.

Goro would know.


	2. Chapter 2

Goro wakes up cold and sleepy. The kind of sleepy that leaves his head feeling like it’s swathed in cotton, his eyes dry and bleary.

A rustic analog clock on the wall informs him that it’s ten to seven. It takes a while of looking between the clock and out the window for him to work out which seven. Looks like this was going to be a hell of day before he even got started.

The scent of flowers that continues to permeate the flat tells him that last night’s bender did actually happen. Goro palms his face. Why couldn’t he have normal benders like normal people?

That’s a tree he has to keep himself from barking up on the regular.

In addition to the overwhelming smell of flowers is the faint scent of lake or river. Hopefully it’s only on his clothes as a result of last night. Objectively it isn’t too bad, nothing like that still pond smell. 

Personally, Goro would be elated to never have to think about lakes or nature or flowers ever again.

Joining the series of odious forces that only take from him is the fact that he has a schedule today. Only a radio “appearance” though, thank goodness for the little mercies.

An appearance nonetheless so he better get going. Goro casts a wary eye to the bathroom door, containing the most odious force of them all. With no one to blame but himself for bringing it into his life. 

Standing up draws his notice to a dozen sore muscles where the cold had hit him unevenly. Not that he wants both of his shoulders sore but it feels weird. 

Sore muscles and old clothes with bits of nature scum, these clothes are through. 

He traces his steps of last night, going back down the hallway. Heaving a deep sigh as he works up the fortitude to open the bathroom door he’d slammed shut. 

Impossible as it sounds he is simultaneously too tired to deal with this yet tired enough to take the edge of dealing with it away.

Cold deep waters and nature hit his nose upon opening the door. In his stupor last night he’d forgotten to shut off the light. Shame wells up low in his chest, of all the things.

Not that it makes a difference now but he switches off the main light and turns on the smaller light over the tub. 

Which has the unfortunate effect of projecting a huge monstrous silhouette onto the tub curtain. Last night when he’d laid the person? to rest in the tub he was pretty sure all of it was just about submerged. So what on earth is this imposing thing rising up half the curtain?

A trick of the light perhaps. The silhouette is clear and solid enough behind the curtain for him to see demons in its image, but not clear enough to make out any finer details to rationalise those demons.

‘The elephant in the room’, everyone’s favourite saying. The actual devil in his room maybe but Goro can play along with the principle all the same. Do not engage.

He marches to the sink and mirror with purpose, resolutely ignoring the pile of clothes still on the floor.

For all of five minutes it works great. Brushing his teeth goes off without a hitch, but in the midst of rinsing his face an errant splash then plop has him going stock still.

A prickly so-white-hot-it-may-be-freezing itch smoulders at the base of his spine then blisters up it as if it were thread soaked in petrol. The only sounds in the bathroom are the dull howl of his heart throttling his eardrums and the plip plop of something dripping behind the tub curtain. 

Everything in regards to his being is right in his face in that moment. Bent over the sink, unable to open his eyes.

He frantically washes the remaining cleanser off his face, water splashing everywhere. When it’s safe to open his eyes he immediately he looks to the curtain and the silhouette has shifted for sure. 

It’s collapsed some. Smaller than before, still large enough to be alarming. 

He yanks the curtain to the side and has to keep from retching, a skill that’s been practiced far too much lately.

It’s like looking at a clogged gutter.

Musty dead yellow grey blossoms stuff up a lot of the tub, joined by several mushy brown leaves and dried chunks of dead tuber. There’s no more visible water. 

He’s inside, it smells like he’s outside. Not having a pollen allergy has never felt like a greater boon.

Aside from the plant waste rotting in his tub a number of stems seem to have died stiff and dry. Rising above the body in the tub and each supporting more plant gunk. The few living blossoms and leaves he’d seen on the surface yesterday are still there and do still seem to be a healthy living colour. They’re just vastly outnumbered by dead gross bilge. Goro can’t see any of the main body under all the plant debris. 

If it wasn’t for the skinny arm hanging over the side of the tub he would be all too willing to dismiss the body as a nightmare and that he had simply filled his tub with reeds in a fit of mania.

It might be Goro’s eyes playing tricks on him but he swears the arm isn’t as horribly bluish grey as it was last night.

How on earth did this body physically have all this garbage inside it? Did Goro somehow shake it all loose dragging this actual garbage meat flower back home?

Radio in the morning, school in the afternoon, and then he would get his weekend provided his boss didn’t bother him. He should ask his boss about a cleaner. Except for the part where Goro is the cleaner. Hilarious.

Goro flings the curtain shut. How nice it’d be if he could do away with all this with some bleach or gasoline or fire. The internal discussion where he tells himself where he really needs to stop thinking about things is a common one. It has also never felt more necessary.

He pinches his wrist hard, then finishes his morning routine. 

By some miracle he’s out the door with a canned coffee and choco cornet with time to spare.

***

“Oh good morning,” the host says genially. Goro allows himself a second to bask in her voice, a soothing warm tone of a born and raised Tokyoite who’d received elocution training for sure. Perfect for the radio, easy on the ears first thing in the morning. Just the thing to hear after a stressful six am.

“Good morning Ms Kimishima,” Goro says in kind. 

“How have you- ah.” Ms Kimishima makes a face, a few silent uneasy seconds pass before she sneezes.

Goro frowns, “bless you.” 

Standing up and leaning over he pushes her mug of tea closer to her. A small misshapen blue thing on a knit coaster, certainly brought from home. 

It’s charming.

“Thank you,” she says, winding long fingers around the mug. Her voice still sounds perfectly even. “Just a natural consequence of the seasons changing.”

Something about her reminds him of Sae, an alternate dimension Sae with a few more years on her belt who no longer had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“You have trouble with pollen?” Goro asks. 

“Mmm. A little trouble with everything.” There’s the barest hint of a quirk in her lip, her expression wry. “I had a big surgery a few years ago. It saved my life but.”

She sighs, “never mind that. Fair’s fair.”

“Naomi we’re on in three!” A voice in the control room shouts. 

Goro sips his water.

The ‘on air’ light flickers to life and Ms Kimishima says her greeting. 

“As I was about to tell our visitor today. Preventative care goes a long way. So while we’re on the way to summer I want everyone to to take care. That goes for you too, right Akechi?” She says with a smile.

Goro’s laugh comes out shaky.

Ms Kimishima sneezes again. “Oh dear, maybe I am coming down with something.”

It’s the last damn thing on this planet he wants to talk about but Goro hazards it anyway. “My apologies it’s probably me.”

“Perhaps,” Ms Kimishima says as if it were the most logical conclusion in the world. “It has smelled strongly of flowers since you came in.”

That’s not what Goro wants to hear. “Yes I took in a plant recently.”

“Just the one? It must be very large.”

She doesn’t mention the shutdowns or the upcoming election. Avoids any smidgen of mentioning any of the topics Goro’s supposed to harping on about to aid United Future.

It’s a nice break, it’s also incredibly distressing. The only reason he was supposed to be taking any of these invitations was to sway public opinion and get attention.

Not like this.

Except they don’t stray from a certain topic.

“What kind of plant?”

The origin story comes to Goro instantly. “I found a lotus someone had thrown out, it might be beyond saving though.” He finishes with a wince.

“Why do you say that?” 

He thinks back to the mess in the tub. “There are a few good blossoms on it but other than that.”

Well it was also a body floating face down in a lake. 

“They seem pretty dead. Partially frozen as well.” 

It hits Goro first and the host soon after if her head tilt is anything to go by. Before he can correct himself there’s already a small satisfied smile gracing her lips.

“My apologies for all the flower questions. I had to do a lot of research on them some years ago.” 

Her smile is fond and her eyes are cloudy. Usually Goro doesn’t have a problem keeping it docile for media appearances. Recent events may be interfering with this.

“Any tips on my new charge?” Whether he says this to humour himself or the host is a mystery.

Ms Kimishima takes a long sip of tea.

“You should talk to it, talking helps plants grow.”

Goro sits there smiling, he doesn’t grace that with a response.

Ms Kimishima lets out a titter of her own before giving him a real response. “It sounds overworked.”

Who isn’t?

“It’s probably still trying to keep all the dead parts alive.” She holds the mug tighter, “usually those flowers can keep themselves very warm. It sounds like it doesn’t have the energy to do that right now.”

She smiles at Goro, “but I’m sure they’ll be just fine in your capable hands.”

***

School goes by in a haze, a haze that lasts him his trip home and has him drifting in and out of sleep on the train. No one bothers him but generally people don’t bother him during peak hours. People also bothered him less on grey days like today, no one really has it in them when it looks so bad outside.

Goro doesn’t have it in him at least.

After reaching his floor the haze starts to dissipate. No calls from the boss, so that leaves his weekend open for dealing with the mess in the bathroom and maybe getting in some recreational exercise.

Opening the door Goro unties his shoes and pulls them off, careful not to warp the shape. He glances at the clock. Last night had been rough, he could afford a short nap. Setting down his briefcase and the bag of houseplant necessities Ms Kimishima had gifted him, he goes to his bedroom.

Goro drops to the bed, just a short nap. He quickly calculates a REM sleep efficient power nap and sets an alarm for the appropriate time.

Just a short nap, Goro closes his eyes.

When he opens them the sky is a different colour. 

In an odd twist the sun has broken out and while it’s a welcome change it also has him spending a minute panicking that he’s slept into the next day somehow.

He gets a minute to panic over that and then another to panic over the huge splash and heavy thump from the hallway. For the second time that day it goes quiet enough for Goro to hear the blood in his ears and dripping coming from the bathroom.

He’d never quite gotten over the habit of making sure all the closets and doors were shut before sleeping. Never got over the habit of having to keep his back to the wall. 

It’s idiotic, but he grabs the bat out from under his bed. How much danger could a more than half dead more than half plant be?

He keeps one hand poised on the bedroom doorknob.

In the hallway he hears the bathroom door handle turn and the door open with a quiet squeal. He starts mapping the trajectory of the thing in his mind. It had crawled out of the tub and landed with a splat on the floor, probably tracking scummy flower water everywhere. Pulled the door handle, probably got confused about which way it opens and let it swing inward.

There’s another loud thump and splat, this time Goro senses the impact. It had slumped against the left wall of the hallway. 

More quiet.

Goro breathes out, his head sinks just enough to see water trickle in under the bedroom door. He tightens his hold on the bat with a squeak of his gloves. If this waterlogged decrepit pond ghoul ends up warping the floor with its antics Goro swears…

With his apartment deposit on the line, Goro resigns himself to opening the door.

It’s the scene he expected, that doesn’t mean he was prepared to see it. 

The figure he’d thrown in the bathtub last night now clung to the wall, knock kneed like a fawn taking its first steps. By all means that could be the case, Goro had entertained the idea of it being some kind of plant based mermaid.

Or it could be the massive amount of dead foliage clumped together hanging out of its back and tracking water on the floor. Standing up seems to have shaken even more parts loose. Two giant roots hang out in addition to the tuber, dragging along the floor 

Goro eyes a loose dead petal with disdain. 

If they heard him they aren’t paying him any mind. He sets the bat down on the floor. 

“What are you doing?” He drawls, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

The thing tries to edge forward, clinging to the wall for support. Apparently a maneuver too dramatic for it to handle. It pauses, hacking a few wet coughs. With each rattle of its bony frame the overgrown plant shakes more drops on the floor.

Goro grabs a towel from his room and heaves a long winded sigh before wrapping it around the scrawny half-dead thing the best he can. Which isn’t very good considering the uncontrollable mess hanging out of its back, but it should soak up some water.

Then he catches a glimpse of black under all the bramble.

Logically something if something is person-shaped, it would have a head and a face. Why Goro hadn’t made the connection before is beyond him. 

It resumes its slow march forward, each movement like something with many eyes and many legs he’s seen in nature documentaries. 

Goro looks ahead, where bright motes glimmer about the living room floor and something else clicks for him.

The plant is deceptively heavy.

“At least try to help.” He says through grit teeth, “I’m getting you to the balcony.”

They’re not getting anywhere with him just tugging its arm. He winds the arm around his shoulders, keeping most of the plant’s weight on himself. He absolutely does not scream when a mushy brown leaf pad brushes against his arm in the process.

A reappropriated storage bin and many towels later Goro finally has the poor man’s giant aquatic terrarium set up on his balcony.

The body sits in the bin, knees up to its chest. It’s nose and mouth are dangerously close to dipping below the water. Weight displacement in water is a thing he has neglected to remember. Flowers can breathe through their leaves, humans breathe through their noses and mouths.

Goro looks to the body sitting in the tub. Which is it? He stares at the plant, watching for any sign that it could be relying on cardiorespiratory organs for air. Earlier it certainly sounded like the plant was trying to cough water out of its lungs. 

The plant remains still.

He pinches the tip of his glove while eyeing the line of the plants neck, then lets go. That’s a step further than he’s willing to go at the moment.

The radio host’s advice comes to him.

“You’re an idiot if you’re trying to keep this all alive,” Goro says gesturing to the dead leaves. He tugs on the makeshift tub, angling the flowers for maximum sunshine. Also angling the tub so the body wouldn’t be facing the living room from the balcony.

In the midst of all the pushing the body slumps down further and another clump of blossoms bobs up from the back cavity. The clump is yellowish grey like the other dead flowers however this one is also tinged black.

Goro picks it up. The petals converge tightly into one point marked by a deep hole in the clump. He starts peeling away the blackened petals. An idle action that takes far longer than anticipated as the clump proves incredibly dense, being wholly composed of petals.

To hell with this. Goro digs his thumbs into the hole and splits the clump apart, arms trembling with the effort. Embedded in one of the halves is a small dull grey pebble.

A metal pebble. He looks back to the gaping maw.

Perhaps he should prioritise pruning this mess. Who knows what other terrible delights await him in the abyss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi Goro’s kindness stat goes up b y a l o t

Goro can’t take the guilt any longer.

His new charge remains unattended to on the balcony for all of a night and a bit of day before Goro caves in. The awareness of the plant alone is enough to weigh on Goro. Every time he goes through the living room he can feel its eyes boring into his soul through its matted fringe. 

He turns on the TV in another fruitless attempt at getting some ambient noise going in the living room. It starts off well enough, his nerves are just about burnt out enough for his mind to wander.

Then he hears a soft splash and telltale dripping.

Goro whips his head around to face the balcony so fast his neck hurts. 

The plant doesn’t appear to have moved, the tremble of the petals in the bin suggests otherwise. 

He looks to the duffel bag packed by the door then to the balcony. He’d yet to miss a bouldering session which meant that it’d probably be understandable if he sat out one.

It also meant that it’d be heinous for him to start missing them now. This is how people allow themselves to fall into sloth.

There’s a plastic bag on the end table that had been sitting there since he came home the day before. ‘General plant goodies’ the radio host had passed on to him. Rummaging through the bag turns up a trowel, a small plant fork, a pack of plant food spikes, and a lot of other things that don’t apply to his situation.

Eventually he picks his tools of choice, the plant fork, a pair of gardening scissors, and the pack of plant food. Goro dons a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of trackies that won’t ever see the light of day, something tells him this will get messy.

“Brat,” he mutters, sardonically recalling the host’s advice. He glares at the plant’s covered face. “Is this your way of saying I’m not giving you enough attention?”

The plant doesn’t move.

Goro sets the bag down. “This is the third time you’ve cried wolf. What if I stop coming over?”

No response, and it doesn’t seem like his sustained glaring at the plant will deign him with one either.

With a tired sigh he gets an orderly setup going on the balcony with what little space there is. A setup that consists of a small chair, a bin bag, and his gardening tools of choice.

Now it’s a matter of where to start.

The mushy gross brown leaves that had been pissing him off this whole time droop over the edge of the bin. So he figures there’s as good a place as any, he gets snipping.

Goro has no idea what the hell he’s doing.

While the snipped at stalks are much tidier they’re also kind of unsightly. Uneven, obviously premature cut short. Goro looks at the scissors.

Cleaning and gardening are so therapeutic. Essential skills that everyone should have and possessing them greatly inflates one’s appeal.

Goro idly combs at some small fine roots with the plant fork.

It’s like everyone has lied to him to trick him into doing this.

Patience wearing thin, his standards for what he deems bin-worthy rapidly plummet. It gets to a point where if something comes off with a small tug he’ll trash it. Is he binning bits that might still be living and performing some kind of purpose for the plant?

Perhaps.

Sometimes the plant’s face dips into the water. Each time Goro spends a solid moment grousing that the plant deserves it before begrudgingly pulling its head out. 

The next thing that offends him are the giant thick roots jutting out of its back. Those seem important, but is that still the case if the plant isn’t rooting to anything? With both hands he tentatively pulls at each heavy stalk. Two give away immediately, leaving one. He’ll take it.

He pauses, turning his new acquisitions about in his hands. They’re technically edible, quite good and nutritious in fact. The idea of throwing them away stings.

However there’s the issue where Goro doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to eat lotus roots or seeds ever again.

He could give it to a coworker. 

The zipper on the plant’s back glints menacingly under the afternoon sun.

He’ll have to accept that he can’t bestow them upon anyone in good faith. 

Good faith.

Maybe they’re poisonous.

Goro entertains a few fantasies before chucking the roots into the garbage bag.

The rest of the plant is much easier to deal with.

Use the plant fork to comb through dead bramble and tiny hair-like stringy roots. Clear the teeth of the fork of plant gunk and throw it into the trash bag because Goro has yet to make one clean pass through the mess. Cut off anything gross and/or dead-looking.

Somewhere along the way the motions become familiar enough to lull him into a trance. Or he’s finally been Stockholm Syndrome’d by the situation and convinced himself he likes gardening. The water level in the bin has dipped enough that the plant’s face dropping in is no longer a concern, a testament to how much he’s cleared out.

Progress. The thought feels like the radiant sun’s warm gentle rays.

The sun had hung high in the sky when he began this endeavour, currently it rested on the horizon burning a muted blood orange.

It’s a bit difficult to see. Even so Goro’s cleaned out enough that from certain angles the plant looks like a sleeping person. A sleeping person that looks to be about his own age if he wants to venture a step further.

He doesn’t.

There are some tangles that even the wide-toothed plant fork can’t tackle. As if on instinct he pulls his gloves off and makes a claw shape with his hand. 

Anything loose sticks to his fingers as he combs through straw-like stalks. The plant isn’t as deathly cold as when he first brought it home, which was to be expected. As a matter of fact it’s quite warm and soft and-

Goro flexes his right hand and finds it resting on the plant’s side, thumb just a bit from the zipper. Right under its shoulder blade which is really funny considering he has it opened up and hasn’t noticed any bones or anything other than plant matter. 

Maybe he just missed something, he turns his head to look into the abyss.

The abyss looks back, the lights in his world fizzle out.

 

 

 

 

When the world comes back to him immediately apparent is a throbbing pain on the back of his head. A skin deep pain, exacerbated by him resting face up on top of the sheets of his bed.

So he hit his head at some point.

Goro lethargically rotates his head to look at his bedroom window.

Overcast, but bright out. The birds are chirping. 

His last memory of the sky is of deep oranges and reds, and a colour darker than the rare moonless nights he had the pleasure of being far from the city.

His last memory of what he’d been doing.

Goro sits up. Opening the bedroom door he’s greeted by the empty hallway. Hardwood floor dry and gleaming.

Because he had to mop it, two days ago?

Tiptoeing out into the hallway he opens the bathroom door to be greeted by the usual sight. Lights off, tub curtain open and tub pristine. 

Because he’d spent a good while alternating between hosing off the tub and emptying the hair catcher.

Two days ago.

Two days ago there had been something else in the hallway, right?

He pads back to the bedroom, forces his cold stiff body to crouch down beside the bed. Indeed the bat is back in its rightful place but he knew that surely, he put it back there after all. 

Everything’s fine. Goro narrows his eyes.

His steps grow firmer, more confident with each waking second.

Down the hallway to the living room. Plastic bag of gardening tools on the couch end table. 

Living room balcony door curtain drawn.

Goro all but stomps over to the curtain and rips it open.

Empty balcony.

He takes a deep breath. 

It smells like rain and new furniture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t look up mimikyu’s skirt. Don’t look in 蓮’s zipper.


	4. Chapter 4

The greenery in their office is new. Goro takes a glove off and pokes a leaf of the plant that’s found a home next to the coffee machine.

It feels very coarse, very synthetic. He isn’t sure what he expected.

His tired sigh is drowned out by the coffee machine shaking down old grounds for the ghost of flavour’s past.

“Akechi.” 

“Yes?” Goro responds, setting a hot mug down on Sae’s desk before taking the other to his own.

“Do you like coffee?” 

Sae sounds like she can’t contain her disgust on the word ‘like’. It’s something he can’t put into words but he has an idea of what that feeling is.

“Let’s not talk about that at this particular moment.” Goro says with a wince.

That draws a quiet chuckle out of Sae. 

“Hey,” she says, leaning across her desk. 

Goro looks up from his paperwork. 

“I know a quiet place where the coffee’s to die for,” she continues grinning ear to ear. “How about we take a field day?”

“Any local cafe will be packed with students,” he says matter of fact. If it’s a local cafe around here not only will it be packed with students but students from _his_ school.

Which he doesn’t mind, but he can’t have that while he’s working.

Sae shakes her head. “I assure you there will be no students in this cafe.”

Hopefully his raised eyebrow speaks for itself.

“It’s in Yoncha, but the trek is worth it. Promise.”

“If you insist.”

The conversation dies there as they get to work. Only taking breaks to honour an unspoken agreement where they take turns making trips to the coffee maker.

Sae breaks the oppressive silence an hour later.

“It looks bad out,” she says. Goro looks out the window and indeed there are dark clouds rolling in.

She frowns, “the forecast didn’t say anything about rain.”

“It is monsoon season,” Goro says pointedly.

Sae doesn’t deign that with a response, “you should head before the rain starts.”

Goro has to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “What about you?”

“I’ll wait it out,” she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Heaven knows that I’m nowhere near done here anyway.”

“Stay strong,” Goro says. 

Sae’s eyes go wide for a fraction of a second before a tiny smile graces her face. “Thank you. Now hurry and get out of here.”

Goro doesn’t feel lucky enough to bike home, but he is willing to push his luck with stopping in Shibuya for a few errands.

The joke is that he ever feels lucky.

A joke that comes to a head when halfway through his shopping a flash storm decides to hit Shibuya. An event heralded by the screaming of fellow Central street pedestrians. 

Goro ducks into a nearby alley, by a gym called Protein Lovers. The station isn’t far, it would be no skin off his back to duck into the crowd making a mad dash for the station and blend in. Another crowd forms a queue at the convenience store right across the street to buy ponchos and umbrellas. 

Two very rational and accessible options, yet the thought of pursuing either has his skin crawling. He persists in hiding by Protein Lovers and using his attaché case as an umbrella.

“You okay?” A quiet voice sounds next to him.

Goro whips around fast enough his case bangs against the wall he’s leaning on.

Facing him is a mousey looking teen. He assumes teen at least because they’re just about the same size as him. Between the stranger’s fluffy black hair, giant glasses, and face mask Goro doesn’t have a whole lot to go off of.

Additionally the raindrops have stopped their assault. Goro looks from the stranger’s hand up to a humongous leaf sheltering them both.

“What a novel umbrella.”

“It comes in handy.” The stranger says simply. “Goin’ to the station?”

“Yes, however…”

Before Goro can conjure an excuse mousey kid tugs his sleeve. “We can share. C’mon.”

The stranger continues tugging his sleeve, keeping them shoulder to shoulder under the giant leaf.

“Wait.” Goro stammers throwing out a hand. 

“Hm?” The stranger whirls around, the leaf waving merrily with his movements. “Oh.”

They stop tugging his sleeve and push the stem shaped umbrella handle into his hand.

Usually Goro is pretty good about thinking on his toes. He’ll blame his current lack of finesse on the rain and copious amounts of stale office coffee. The stranger turns to step away.

“What about you?” Goro calls out.

The stranger turns back, face further obscured by the rain running down their glasses. They shrug, “I work in the underground mall.”

“That’s in the station.” Goro says indignantly, purposefully stepping next to the stranger to get them both under the umbrella. “We’ll go together.”

The stranger quickly ducks their head down, a hint of a quiver to their shoulders and Goro’s mind catches up to the situation. Before he can defend his honour the stranger gets themself in order and stands an exact respectful two inches away from Goro.

“Let’s go.”

As they power walk down Central street Goro looks to the various shopkeepers caught unaware and scrambling to take their wares inside. They pass a gardening shop where the harried attendant lugs a giant box of plant food spikes back indoors.

Exactly like the plant food spikes that had gone missing from Goro’s flat a month and a half ago.

Those were the only thing he couldn’t account for from that time. The discrepancy still has him feeling off balance. He can’t count the number of times he’s thought of replacing them as if it would right cosmic wrongs.

That’s not how things work, and Goro no longer has a plant to care for. Not after how well that first endeavour went. There is absolutely no reason for him to buy more plant food. 

But the thought won’t leave him alone. 

“We’re here.” 

Goro blinks, they’re on the stairs going down to the Ginza line across from the Teikyu Building. He has a brief thought of getting a rainy day special from Yon Germain. While it had only started raining half an hour ago he’d found the good people at Yon Germain to be more prescient of the weather than the nation’s top meteorologists. 

He tries to hand the umbrella back only for his saviour to wave him off. 

“This umbrella seems very well made, I’d hate to keep it,” Goro insists.

The stranger takes pause, facing away from him. “It won’t last long.”

Before Goro can inquire further the stranger is already off, down the steps leading into Ginza station. That wasn’t cryptic at all.

Maybe he will check out Yon Germain.

A decision that turns out well for once as the flash rain appears to have driven away the usual rainy day special hoard. It goes so well the lone teen hanging out behind the counter graces him with an extra katsu bun.

“Oh thank you.” Goro says with less feigned surprise. He tugs his gloves and juggles the umbrella to the crook of his elbow. 

He gasps at the contact. The handle is cold on his skin, it feels waxy. Organic.

He fumbles with his wallet, quickly forks over the relevant bills then speed walks out of sight.

Grasping the “handle” of the “umbrella” tight, it feels slightly squidgy in his grip.

Taking things one step further he digs a nail into the stem. There’s a tiny crunch and his nail breaks flesh, the spot under his nail darkens and bleeds a little plant juice.

It won’t last long. Right.

His phone pings. It’s Sae.

_‘This office is driving me up the wall. If you’re free can we please go to Yongen? My treat.’_

***

“You take it.”

“I’m perfectly fine standing. You go ahead.”

Sae stares down at him, her heels today give her just a bit of height on Goro. “What kind of senior would I be if I had my kouhai stand?”

Goro bristles, “I’m seventeen!” The look Sae gives him in response has him regretting the words not a second after they leave his mouth. “Do you know how bad it’d look if I was sitting and let you stand!?” He hisses.

Before Sae can retort, a man who doesn’t look that old but still has a bit of salt and pepper going on boards the train. 

Goro and Sae walk far away from the empty seat. Sae takes out her phone, Goro takes out his book. 

Blessedly, no one on the train mentions Goro’s leaf. He’d tried to be as considerate about it as he could. Him and Sae had sacrificed a pack of tissues each to ensure that the leaf wouldn’t drip on anyone.

“Why couldn’t you just throw it away?” Sae snapped at him.

“In what bin?” Goro snaps right back, shaking the stem for emphasis. They both feel the air around them move from the sheer mass of Akechi Goro’s big dumb leaf.

The rain stops by the time they hit Yongen Jaya, a flash storm in the truest sense. Sae takes over leaf duty.

Cafe Leblanc isn’t very far from the station. Goro opens the door for Sae and by some miracle she gets the leaf in with no hassle.

The proprietor of Leblanc takes his time attending to them. He slowly turns to face them, watching like a hawk from behind giant wire-framed spectacles.

Sae nods at the man. “Afternoon,” she says easily, just as easily she passes the leaf to Goro and it’s all he can do to not squawk in indignation.

So now he’s responsible for this leaf, again. He listens with half an ear as Sae orders something with Honduras beans. There’s a clank as his heel knocks against something, a communal umbrella tin. It’s not perfect but it’ll have to do. He attempts to set the leaf in the tin, stem first.

“Ah ah.” The man behind the counter grunts loudly in clear reprimand and Goro freezes from the core.

“That’ll need water soon,” the man walks over. “Mind if I take this upstairs? My daughter’s a bit of a green thumb,” he adds sheepishly. “I guess I’ve picked up the habit from her.”

Goro lets go of the stem.

“I’ll be back down in a moment.”

The radio host and this man’s daughter have green thumbs, something burns low in the pit of Goro’s chest.

He recalls the balcony that’s been empty for month and a half.

Goro has green eyes.

It wasn’t like he had enjoyed its presence, the stress it brought, or wanted it back. Yet here he is. Having green eyes is funny like that.

The cafe proprietor comes back down. “You gotta be kind to them, talk to them nice.”

Goro wonders who that was directed to, if anyone at all.

“Now what can I get ya?”

Coffee is unfortunately a subject that has fallen out of his purview. He takes a quick look at the shelf behind the counter.

“May I try the Yemen mocha matari please?”

The man behind the counter grunts and starts grinding beans. Sae takes a seat at the barstool closest to the door and Goro follows suit. Sitting a seat away from her so they can use the middle stool as a shared storage.

Dragging out a sheaf of papers Goro drops them on the counter with a dull _fwump_. An intimidating pile with no context, however most of it was menial in nature. His school was better about it than the public schools, having a lot less to prove than them.

A voice in his head is furious about what a time sink this all is. However in the presence of good coffee, the perfect level of ambient noise, and warm lighting it feels like he’s making vast amounts of progress.

Paper upon paper filled out with neat handwriting, his pen won’t stop moving.

Upon finishing the last review booklet he looks up and the world spins a little. 

Sae seems to be in a similar place, if her shoving everything back into her accordion file is any indication. 

“I’m beat,” she groans. “But coming out here was a good decision. I wouldn’t have lasted this long in the office.”

“There’s a good bathhouse ‘round here,” the man behind the counter says. “If you feel like staying in Yongen for a while longer.” 

“That’s a bit out of the blue,” Goro says.

“Just think of it as a friendly welcome to Yongen Jaya.”

“You say that like Yongen is a different town.”

“Isn’t it?” Leblanc’s proprietor says, casting a quizzical eye over them.

“What do you think Sae?” Goro says in his best ‘I want to go home immediately’ voice.

“Let’s pay it a visit. It could be a fun end to a work date.” Sae says cheerfully. 

Briefly Goro wonders if he’s supposed to ask for his leaf back but then Sae’s already out the door. 

It’s in better hands now anyway.

He goes outside to meet Sae. 

“So.”

“Don’t you think he was being somewhat strange?” Sae says, looking down the road supposedly leading to this bathhouse.

“Perhaps, but isn’t that in itself normal?” Goro says, “what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking it’s a front. Why else would he drop it like that?”

Goro’s jaw drops. 

“You can check out the men’s side while I investigate the women’s baths.”

It still sounds like an excuse to procrastinate but Goro holds his tongue. However when they reach the entrance of the bathhouse he thinks Sae might be onto something.

The entrance is marked by a yellowed beat up vending machine and a dingy coin op laundromat. Sae takes the initiative in opening the bathhouse door and the difference between the interior and the entrance is night and day.

Sae gasps in awe, Goro resists the urge to clap a hand over his nose and mouth. Permeating the air thick is a scent that he’s come to associate with cold nights and pond scum. 

“What a lovely pond,” Sae gasps. 

In the center of the modest lobby is an indoor balcony of sorts. More accurately a large opening in the floor edged by wooden railing. The hole in the floor lines up with a window on the ceiling. 

Goro looks over the railing to find that the opening serves as a window to the floor below. A pond makes up the entirety of the view, there’s a giant lotus and several lily pads.

There’s probably more out of sight, that’d explain the potent smell.

“Do you keep fish in it?” Sae asks the woman at the desk.

“We tried keeping koi in that pond before. The lotus didn’t get along with them,” the woman behind the desk responds, running a hand through her bob cut. 

“I see, I’ve heard koi can get a bit nippy,” Sae says nodding.

The woman behind the desk mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‘so can flowers.’ 

Before Goro can drop a harmless question about that last thing the woman is already handing Sae a locker key bracelet, “right then up the steps.”

Sae makes a noise of affirmation and heads up.

The desk woman then rounds on Goro and takes a long look at him. The light bounces off her glasses in such a way that Goro can’t read her expression. She then hands him a large rusty key that looks like it’s seen stars die.

“Left then down the steps.”

The door on the left is shut, a plaque on the front of it says ‘Staff Only’.

“Um…” Goro falters.

“Wakaba!” a granny behind him greets with a smile that lights up the small room. 

“Ah!” The attendant crows in obvious delight. “How’s Shinya?” 

The granny laughs, “we’ll be here all day if I talk about him. How’s Futaba?”

A sinking feeling in Goro’s gut tells him that he’s not going to get any further explanation from the attendant. His eyes dart nervously to the ‘Staff Only’ door.

If it’s really a front.

Goro heads through the door before he can get colder feet.

“His name is Ren.”

“Pardon?” When Goro looks at the desk the attendant is still in the midst of enthusiastic civil discourse with the old woman.

Then the heavy door falls shut behind him, leaving him in the dark.

The steps leading down are dark only getting dimmer as he walks down. Somehow he doesn’t think Sae is having the same experience he is.

At the bottom of the stairs is a door with a large heavy padlock, presumably this is where the key comes in. The padlock opens with a loud clang and the door swings open.

Before him stretches a vast field of green dotted by lotuses of every colour. At the opposite end Goro can make out a few standing showers. 

The pool is gorgeous, objectively. Leaves hang above the water, they float on the surface, swaying minutely despite the lack of a breeze. 

Ever since that time he’s never managed to shake the feeling they are watching him. The back of his neck burns.

While the room has all the oppressive heat and humidity of a bath room, it doesn’t smother his mouth and clog up his lungs in the same way. The light from the opening in the ceiling glints off the shiny surface of the leaves.

By the showers is a small rack with the necessities, having showered this morning it doesn’t take him too long.

“Oh it’s just you.”

Goro nearly slips on the stone trying to turn around, “excuse me?”

Except he can’t find any speaker to face, his eyes frantically dart all over the room. He grabs a nearby towel and wraps it around his waist.

“Down here.”

His gaze drops to the edge of the pool to meet a very familiar pair of eyes. On anyone else they would be the most cookie cutter default unremarkable thing. Odd, what his mind holds on to.

Their owner gives him a little wave.

“Hello,” Goro opens, ever cognisant of proper etiquette. “And you would be?”

“Ren.” 

Goro squints at ‘Ren’.

“Are you..?” he falters, trying to accommodate the plant life and person into the same picture. He has two pieces of a puzzle assembled and a third that might fit. Who he’s trying to impress by not exploding with all his questions he doesn’t know.

“I’m Ren.” Ren clarifies helpfully.

“Is it okay for me to be down here?” Goro says, going back to the Ren’s first statement.

Ren looks at him one moment, then plops underwater with a small splash. 

Enough time passes that it doesn’t seem likely the plant will resurface without further prompting. Goro approaches the edge of the pool and settles on one knee, mindful of the towel around his waist.

Ren reappears from under a leaf pad. 

“For now,” Ren whispers. The blossom right before Goro’s face flexes shut then opens again.

“If not I’ll eat you.”

Nothing has prepared him for how to respond in this situation.

“Kidding, I can’t do that,” Ren deadpans.

They turn around and the first thing Goro sees is shiny zipper teeth and his heart stops.

He doesn’t manage to avert his eyes wholly on time. For a single grain of sand in the hourglass Goro witnesses countless green threads sprouting from the cavity in Ren’s back. The light from above flickers just right, illuminating the myriad network of stems stretching across the pool under the water. Like a puppet’s strings.

He wonders which is the puppet.

“Anyway holler if you need anything.”

There’s a splash and it’s all gone. With their departure also go the leaves around Goro’s end of the pool. He shrugs, setting the towel to the side he slides into the water. 

It’s nice enough. Warm, and looking at his hand under the water it appears they’ve added some kind of herbal treatment to the bath. 

It’s also too quiet. While he isn’t sure on the idea of being in the bath surrounded by plant life, the alternative he was currently experiencing left him too exposed. However mostly it’s too quiet, and maybe the bath was just a hair off from his preference. Dark waters and large leaves also remind him too much of that time. He can’t keep his eyes from scanning for pale skinny limbs floating around.

The only guidance he had received was to ‘holler’ was it?

“Pardon,” Goro says aloud.

Nothing happens.

It could bravery, or curiosity. Goro takes a few steps forward and gently tugs at a leaf stem.

Immediately the other end of the bath erupts in rowdy splashing. 

“No splashing!” A voice he recognises as the receptionist calls out from above.

Goro can see Ren glare at the ceiling opening and kick the water again.

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll make downstairs the salt bath.” The receptionist continues.

Ren grumbles and sinks into the water, in two clicks they’re right next to Goro who absolutely does not flinch.

“What’s up?”

He’d thought the plant to be unsettling before with wet clumpy matted hair blocking his eyes, he’d thought him to be kind of unsettling peering up at Goro through wet glasses and a mask on his face.

Staring at Goro as he does now, projects yet another new flavour of unsettling.

“Is there any way of increasing the water temperature?” Goro asks, fumbling for his words. He never has to reach too far to get a bunch.

“Yeah, gimme a minute.”

Ren flops onto a nearby lily pad. There’s a rippling effect as all the flowers and leaves sink until they’re level with the surface.

Goro arches an eyebrow.

“They heat the water.” 

It’s probably a placebo effect but Goro can already feel the water heating up and sweat beading on the back of his neck. A thought strikes him.

“Don’t you lose a lot of water staying in here?” 

Goro yelps as something brushes against his leg, a root. He whips his head up to find Ren unphased. If perhaps snuggling that leaf pad a bit too nonchalantly.

“Are you doing that on purpose?”

Ren shakes his head.

Getting words out of Ren is like squeezing blood from a stone. So he tries something else, a little honey.

“You look well,” Goro says, gesturing to the sea of green. “Much better than the last time I saw you.”

The root bumps into his calf again. Ren, who he swears by the stars above _smirks_ at him. Then it’s gone, like it was a trick of the light.

All the leaves and blossoms flutter jovially.

Ren was much easier to contend with half dead, he concludes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello I’m a messy dumb that doesn’t introduce the deuteragonist until 8k into the game


	5. Chapter 5

“Akechi are you paying attention?”

“Yes sir,” Goro says pinching the bridge of his nose. “No palace turned up for the name you gave me. I need to investigate the other place.” He rubs at his temple, “can you give me a little more on them? It would be very helpful.”

“You’re the only one I can count on for this Akechi,” the voice on the other end says. “If I knew exactly where they were I could get that thug to take care of things. I need your power for this Akechi. You’re not getting cold feet are you?”

“No sir,” Goro says. His head hurts.

“Good.” 

The line goes dead and Goro slumps back against the wall of the laundromat. It had been a while since one of those calls. Contact with the boss never goes well.

What he didn’t say was that he had already scoured every morphing corner of the mass Shibuya palace. His first thought was that the boss had flat out given him the wrong name. Except the name had coincided with a hit in the police records and placed the target in Aoyama-Itchome. Supposedly.

Bad people are easier to find in the Shibuya palace, the badder they are the easier they are to find. Really bad people have a palace to themselves. People who aren’t bad don’t exist, or all the names Goro had been given had been bad enough to have a presence in Shibuya.

He’s inclined to believe the former.

So he’s stuck with a name, proof the individual in question exists, and an impatient boss.

He strolls back into Leblanc. The sigh he lets out must be something as it raises Mr Sakura’s head.

“You gonna see the kid later?”

“I wasn’t planning on it but I could pass by.” 

The stairs creak with Mr. Sakura’s footsteps, he returns carrying a familiar leaf. The stem is wrapped in paper. “Give this to Wakaba.”

Goro takes the leaf and stops for a moment. “Are you his parents?” 

“Nosy kid aren’t you?”

“My apologies,” Goro says sheepishly. “Comes with the job.”

Mr. Sakura gently clasps a hand to his forehead. “It’s not up for us to say.”

“Adopted then?”

Goro raises an eyebrow when Mr. Sakura’s hand moves to pensively rest on his chin. Just how complicated was Ren’s situation?

“I guess.”

“Well I’ll be passing this on to Mrs. Sakura-“

“Don’t call her that,” Mr. Sakura says stiffly.

“Wakaba…?” Goro says carefully, gaining confidence when he gets no further reprimand. “I’ll be passing this on to Wakaba then.”

“Hey detective kid,” Mr. Sakura says after a beat.

“Yes?”

“Where’d you dig him up from?”

Goro freezes. “Oh he didn’t tell you?” He squeaks out, trying not to laugh nervously like a fool.

“He’s a poor liar.” 

Fate tortures Goro with a few quiet bullet-sweating moments.

A phone rings, Goro’s sight darts to the large yellow phone resting easy on the counter.

“Ah that’s me,” Mr. Sakura waves him off. 

It occurs to that Goro that Ren might not actually know where Goro ‘dug him up’ from. 

If the proprietor of Leblanc is Sojiro Sakura, and his presumably adopted child is Ren did that make Ren…?

Goro stifles a laugh.

He has a lot of new information to digest, maybe he should spend some time in the bath. A rumbling in his tummy informs him that he probably should have gotten a plate of curry at Leblanc.

It wasn’t his fault that he had nearly spat out his coffee at the mention of Leblanc’s famous lotus curry. If it was anything like Leblanc’s coffee it must be delicious, but trying some was out of Goro’s scope for the moment. 

So he settles for the convenience store. 

Nothing but cheese breads left in the bakery, Goro wrinkles his nose at the scent that’s escaping the plastic somehow. A lone fried chicken skewer sits in the deli heater.

Goro sullenly munches on the skewer as he walks out of the convenience store. Health wise there may not be a greater good but at least sugar speeds his brain up. Oil slows him down.

“Oh it’s you.”

Wakaba says as he steps through the curtain. 

“Hello Mrs. Sakura,” Goro hands her the leaf. He bites his tongue the second the words are out his mouth. Old habits.

She sighs and turns back to her computer, “don’t call me that.”

“Ah, my apologies.”

The only sound is of Wakaba clacking at the keyboard and it’s killing him. At least she doesn’t seem to have noticed the skewer.

“Go on down,” she places the key on the counter.

***

There’s a flower that’s been hovering closer and closer to him for some time now. The open blossom pecks the side of his face, leaving a grainy yellow smear of pollen.

“These really aren’t prehensile?” Goro says aloud. Ren had yet to greet him. Initially Goro had been content to let Ren be but it’s been half an hour perhaps? Long enough for him to soak for some time, decide that he was getting too pruney, and dress back up while letting his legs hang in the water. He can’t help getting antsy.

In classic Ren fashion there’s no response, Goro tugs at the offending blossom.

Enough time passes that it doesn’t seem like he’s getting a response. Goro stands up and walks to the little table holding all his possessions. Namely the convenience store skewer he had abandoned before getting into the shower.

“What.” Ren finally responds, leaning on the edge of the pool closest to him.

“I’m a patron of the bathhouse and you had yet to greet me.”

Ren doesn’t blink. “Hi.”

“What story are we giving Mr. Sakura about our acquaintance?” Goro says flatly, “he didn’t sound convinced by whatever you told him.”

“Friend from school?” Ren offers.

He rolls his eyes, no wonder Mr. Sakura wasn’t convinced. “We clearly have different uniforms.”

“That’s a uniform?”

Every time Ren speaks Goro’s focus wanders to the same place. Two little points, an omnivore’s teeth.

Flowers generally feed off of sun, water, and carbon dioxide. So are the teeth cosmetic or do they have some purpose in serving the life of a plant?

It seems his thoughts carry over to Ren.

“What’s that?” Ren points to his hand.

“Chicken,” Goro says absentmindedly. 

Ren looks up at him with round eyes, “come over here.” 

Goro raises an eyebrow but Ren’s expression remains unreadable as ever. He walks back to the edge of the pool.

“Come closer.”

He crouches down. Right as he settles into the position Ren lunges mouth first for his left hand, teeth snapping. He misses, not without splashing Goro.

“I wanna try.”

Goro feels his lip curl then crushes the action. “No.”

Ren pouts for the ghost of a second before his eyebrows furrow, “gimme.”

Out the corner of his eye Goro sees some leaves rustle. Ren leaps at him again, sloshing more water around and Goro keeps the skewer out of reach with a flick of his wrist.

“No splashing!” Wakaba yells from above.

Ren sinks back down in the pool, making little bubbles in the water with his mouth.

Something clicks right then for Goro.

Ren doesn’t come out of the pool. Or at least Ren doesn’t come out without a great deal of time and effort.

This time he really can’t help the Grinch smile curling on his lips when Ren jumps at him yet again. He holds the skewer further and further away until Ren’s hips hit the edge of the pool and he looks like the little mermaid perched on the rock cresting the waves.

Ren looks livid.

A splash sounds at the far end of the pool and Goro automatically turns his head. For only a second, but a second is enough. The skewer tugs in his hand. 

“Hey!”

He looks back to find Ren smirking at him with the most shit-mongering grin. A piece of chicken between his teeth.

“I hope you know you’re an idiot,” Goro says tersely.

Ren giggles quietly, every leaf in the pond trembles with his shoulders.

“It’s poisonous,” Goro snaps at the back of Ren’s head. “You’re going to be incredibly ill later.”

His eyes lock onto a nearby leaf stem, just within his reach. He could grab it and yank the ornery little degenerate back here.

His hand flexes, but Goro remains on shore.

Ren makes it evident that he doesn’t feel remorse for his actions, possibly makes it evident that the nuanced human feeling they call ‘remorse’ is beyond him. 

Speaking of the little devil Ren’s nowhere in sight, presumably floating around the pool somewhere. What catches his eye is a flower that has shrivelled up and turned black

Was something wrong with the skewer? Goro’s mind rockets at a million blips per second. Was the fried chicken not cooked properly? Bad meat? This is what he got for getting stale food from the convenience store. He’s going to be ill, in fact he’s certain it’s already happening.

Several leaves have joined the flower by now. 

“Ren?” Goro says, trying to school his voice solid. He rolls his eyes at the lack of response and pulls at a nearby leaf.

Ren reveals himself to be floating near the corner of the pool by rolling over to float on his back. “I feel funny.”

While Goro thought he felt off, the way he feels is nowhere near how bad Ren’s dying limbs look. “Must have been something you ate,” he says pointedly.

A knock sounds at the door and Wakaba strolls in carrying a humongous pair of gardening shears. 

“Some of the the guests expressed concern over the lotus.” Wakaba clicks her tongue and walks closer to them. “What did he do?” She asks with a long tired sigh.

“Had bit of fried chicken,” Goro says looking away.

Wakaba turns to glare at Ren. “Well?”

“He wouldn’t share,” Ren shrugs and points to Goro.

Goro tugs at the shears in Wakaba’s hands.

“Allow me,” says the ingratiating well-mannered young man. “I should have exercised more vigilance over my dinner.”

Wakaba hums, “sure. Look away from the pool for a moment.”

Turning his head away, Goro hears the wet smack of skin on stone flooring. He wanders off to find a dry wooden shower stool. 

“Make sure you only look at the stems, it’s dangerous to look in the corners.” Wakaba says as Goro positions the stool behind Ren. 

Goro frowns, “what happens?” He asks like someone who absolutely did not look into Ren’s back and see the maw of Tartarus. 

“You die,” Ren whispers.

“It’s a defence system to ward off predators.” 

“I see,” Goro says. “I wasn’t aware lotuses had so many tools at their disposal.”

Wakaba snorts, “and you’re meeting a lot of lotuses like this one I take it?”

“Touché.”

This silence is more bearable, almost comfortable. Peppering the air are the clackings of Wakaba at her laptop and the splashing of Ren kicking the water. As for himself, Goro’s content to keep his eyes averted while he looks for unhealthy plant matter.

Cutting the dead bits off goes by smoothly, enough so that his mind trails off. Shower thoughts seem to be in abundance today, possibly due to hanging out in the bathhouse. His mind wanders into something.

“Oh,” he gasps upon finding a pod full of seeds. “Are these his young?” 

Wakaba bursts out laughing with a loud screech and Ren’s shoulders quiver under his hands.

“Maybe if ya pollinate them,” Ren snickers, looking back at him.

Goro’s hands still for a moment and his head races. Several images of fuzzy buzzy bees travelling from flower to flower flit through his mind. 

Wait.

His eyes lock with Ren’s, who lets out a slimy cackle.

Goro shoves him into the water knowing full well Ren can breathe through his leaves.

“My young,” Ren gasps upon surfacing. Still laughing infuriatingly enough. “What nature documentary is this?”

“I can think of a few,” Goro mutters.

Wakaba recovers enough to hand Goro a paper bag, “put the pod in here. I’ll get the seeds out.”

“My young!” Ren cries out when Goro hurls the pod into the bag with extreme prejudice.

“Wait so did you come from a seed?” Goro muses aloud.

Another cackle rings from Wakaba, but Ren is very still under his hands.

“Where I come from?” Ren murmurs, a muted note of hysteria to his voice.

“I think we’re done for today,” Wakaba says sharply. “Ren go back to the pool.”

Ren sinks into the water without a sound. All that marks his exit is a gentle ripple of the water. Gone in seconds.

Goro doesn’t need any prompting to understand what’s next. They walk back up the staircase to reception in silence. 

“I apologise for bringing up a painful topic.” A meagre peace offering at best.

Wakaba shakes her head. “He doesn’t know, that’s all.”

“ _He_ doesn’t know?” Goro slowly digests that wording in his mind, grip tensing on his briefcase. He takes a deep breath.

“Respectfully,” he works to keep his voice even. “From a place of personal experience, that’s not your choice to make.”

Wakaba has already gone back to her laptops. “And from a place of personal experience I can tell you that whatever you’re thinking of is wrong.”

“Pardon?”

“Thank you come again,” Wakaba says stiffly.

The flowers below are still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u all kno who the boss is but i get really upset and sad when i think of it and i can’t bear to type that name out : c


	6. Chapter 6

It had all been so sudden.

Goro was familiar with the ways people told him to stop prodding. He was also familiar with toeing the line of people telling him to _stop_ prodding.

Which put him back at the bathhouse.

It’s too early for a bath but he stops by after leaving Leblanc, as a courtesy. One that Wakaba might not appreciate. It’s difficult to tell, especially with how their interaction his last visit went.

But she had let him in, things couldn’t be that bad.

Right then Goro hears the creaking of the downstairs door, then a series of wet smacks and soft scratching noises.

The staff door budges a crack. From where Goro stands he catches a sliver of a face. He peeks over the wooden railing to find the pool below empty.

“I’m going with Akechi,” Ren whispers. 

This is news to Goro, and Wakaba if her reaction is anything to go by.

Wakaba stares at the gap.

“Akechi cut off a lot,” Ren continues. “I can go outside again.”

“You didn’t by any chance eat that chicken for ulterior purposes?” Wakaba says with an edge to her tone. 

“I’m bored,” Ren whines.

A painful crease flashes across Wakaba’s eyes and she winces. “Futaba won’t go outside. You won’t stay inside.”

Before Ren can reply Wakaba holds her hand up. “Take your phone and keep me updated. If you ignore any of my texts you’re not leaving downstairs for a month.”

Goro doesn’t know what throws him off more, the harsh words or how elated Ren seems at them. 

Wakaba sighs and crouches down to rummage under the counter.

A small thing of yoghurt barely misses his face. If he had not turned around in time.

She tosses a similarly sized green thing at Ren.

“You go easy on that now,” she barks at Ren. “I’m only letting you have that to get some mass back!”

Ren blows a raspberry at her. 

Ignoring Ren, Wakaba hands a brown paper sack to Goro, “we had extra.”

Goro looks into the sack and a bunch of tiny eyes look back. His shoulders quake holding back a gag.

The attendant looks at him, tapping a finger to the side of her face. “They’re not where you think they’re from.”

“They are.” Ren whispers in his ear.

“From this little _omnivore_?” Wakaba spits, “hilarious.”

Goro has questions, but Ren’s already walking out. 

Wakaba groans, “give this to him.” 

She hands him a veritable plastic brick, a period piece. Goro turns it around, a heavy thing customised with a leopard print case and a plethora of charms dangling off it. A lot nicer than the burner phones the police confiscated but a similar make nonetheless.

“I don’t want to leap to conclusions here,” Goro starts, “but is there a reason you’re limiting his access to the outside?”

Wakaba stares past him. “He has a funny way of getting into trouble.”

Pale limbs in murky waters spring to mind.

“I see.”

When he finally walks out he finds Ren perched on a washing machine out front. There’s a sound like a buzzing of a mosquito as Ren takes a drag of the green plastic thing.

“Is that fertiliser?” Goro says incredulously. Another thought occurs to him.

“Is that the fertiliser _from my house!?_ ” 

Ren smiles at him, wiggling the plant food spike between his teeth. To be fair Ren has more use for it than he does.

“So you’ve invited yourself to my house,” Goro starts.

“Yeah,” Ren chirps.

“Any reason?”

“No.”

Akechi Goro experiences something indescribable whenever he’s around Ren.

“Does that taste good?”

“Yeah,” Ren says pulling out a water bottle. “Strong though.” 

It makes his palms prickle with sweat.

Before him Ren chugs a bottle of water, Goro watches as the contents of the bottle immediately spill out his back cavity and soak the back of his shirt.

It makes his stomach flutter.

“Oop,” Ren mumbles, haphazardly turning his head.

His chest feels tight with how fast his heart beats.

“Can you zip me up?” Ren says it like there isn’t a garden hanging out his back, forming unnatural shapes under his shirt and dangling out from under the hem.

Goro doesn’t like it.

“Perchance did you lie to Wakaba when you said you could fit everything inside?”

“It’s difficult to do myself,” Ren pouts.

Goro peeks out the door of the laundromat. Certain the coast is clear he ducks back in and pulls up Ren’s shirt. 

It’s not so bad, way better than their first meeting.

Ren had managed to get the zipper up three-quarters of the way, leaving a bunch of leaf stalks at the top sticking out. 

Goro clicks his tongue. “Don’t you have that hoodie?”

Ren angrily points to where the hot summer sun is melting the asphalt. For a moment the only sound around them is the screaming of cicadas.

He had a feeling things wouldn’t be that simple. With a sigh he directs Ren to lean over a machine and pulls the zipper down.

“Just shove them in.”

He’ll take Ren’s word for it, Goro stuffs the leaves back in. Looking away with a grimace, he zips Ren up.

Ren walks out the laundromat first. Shirt still hiked up and all.

Goro’s sixth sense kicks in. Sixth sense being a habit to keep Ren presentable. He yanks the shirt down and stuffs the phone in his pocket.

“So when were you planning on telling your caretakers that I found you with last season’s cherry blossoms?”

“What?”

“Inokashira Park ring a bell?”

Goro can see the light bulb flickering over Ren but not ever turning fully on.

“You didn’t know?” Goro says incredulously. A creaky laugh squeaks out of Ren, his movements stiff.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Goro hounds him, going full interrogation mode. He shares an office with the best after all.

“Leaving your house?” Ren says.

“Before that.”

“Dunno.”

Goro shakes his head. By now he knows what it sounds like when Ren doesn’t know. This isn’t it.

“You’re using me to leave,” Goro presses. 

Ren stops walking and Goro stops with him. He sees the gears churning and this is closer to a ‘genuinely doesn’t know’ face, along with something else. Ren looks troubled.

“You were in a Shujin uniform,” Goro adds.

“Shujin?” Ren says slowly, already overcast expression growing cloudier.

Goro has no reason to feel like a bully, he throws Ren a bone anyway.

“Let’s try this instead. How did you end up in Yongen?” 

Ren straightens up. “Wakaba picked me up.”

“Just like that?”

“Wakaba’s good at finding stuff.”

Stuff including humanoids. Not that he needs help finding anyone.

“And she kept you in the bathhouse until you grew enough flowers to hinder your movement?”

Ren nods.

Abusive is a word. 

“They’re not like that,” Ren says instantly, Goro must have made a face. “They have reasons.”

Goro remembers thinking like that. He also remembers what accompanied those thoughts.

“So you deserve it?” Goro says, arching an eyebrow.

Ren bites his lip and twirls a bit of his fringe. “It’s complicated.”

“You don’t say,” he drawls.

A shrill beep pierces the air.

“Wakaba,” Ren groans.

Goro stares in awe at the amount of buttoning Ren has to get through to send a message. 

“I suppose we should get going then. Make use of this temporary freedom,” he adds sardonically.

“They’re not like that,” Ren says again.

Goro holds both hands up. He allows them a short reprieve before going back to picking the scab. 

“So how long have you been with them?” He’s not projecting. Couldn’t be.

Ren scrunches his brows. Another long silence. “Long, but not that long.”

Incredible, but what did long look like to a lotus? How did that compare to a human?

“Which means?” 

Ren sways a bit, makes a few hand gestures Goro can’t decipher. “A few months?”

So still in the honeymoon phase of a new family. Goro tries not to vibrate on the spot, a memo his traitorous brain doesn’t respect.

Who was the disciplinarian? It didn’t seem like Ren interacted much with the true child. How could he bring Ren to reality? Or barring that knock his faith down a peg. 

Something baps his cheek.

Goro looks up and they’re outside the Teikyu Building. He touches his cheek, his fingertips come away coated in yellow grainy pollen.

“Those aren’t prehensile you said.”

“What’s not prehensile?” Ren says with a little too much sugar.

The heat is worse here in central, but they’re standing in a spot of shade somehow. Goro looks up to find a familiar leaf. Then his gaze snaps to Ren who is holding said leaf, and Goro’s wrist.

Goro looks at the stem in Ren’s hand that trails from under his shirt.

“Was I asleep?” 

“Don’t think so,” Ren shrugs. “You looked intense.”

“Ah,” Goro covers his face. “I apologise, I don’t often keep company.”

“Figured,” Ren smiles. “You keep yelling around me.”

“That’s different.”

Ren smiles wider. Ren’s hand stays on his wrist the whole time they wander through the station for the appropriate line. Only leaving to cover a tiny cough. 

It is quite smoggy today, he notes with a frown. Must be tough on plant life unaccustomed to the city.

“Not much longer, this is the worst of it.” Words tossed out on a whim, yet Ren brightens up at them all the same.

“I’m okay,” Ren says conjuring a face mask. Which reminds him.

“Why were you in Shibuya that time?”

“Work. I told you.”

“This was before you were put under house arrest?” Something tells him he’ll never unravel the Sisyphean nightmare that is Ren. It doesn’t stop him from trying.

“When this,” Ren stops in the middle of the staircase and puts the leaf down, “was under control.”

Ren has the decency to keep his back away from Goro when trying to stuff his leaf back in, but that leaves a nasty surprise for anyone coming up the stairs.

In two resigned steps Goro positions himself behind Ren as a lookout.

“You’re a pushover,” Ren quips.

Goro doesn’t honour that with a response.

The train pulls into the station, people bursting out the moment the doors open. People rushing in just as fast. 

An experienced city dweller, Goro gets them both in and lets Ren have the spot next to the door and why won’t Ren _stop squirming_?

“Switch with me,” Ren says, still twisting.

“With what space?” Goro hisses back.

Each errant move makes his blood pressure shoot up.

“Door’s touching the zipper,” Ren says too loud for comfort.

Goro backs away so Ren can have his side pressed against the door instead. For good measure he braces his arm against the door behind Ren’s back.

Finally peace.

Being on a crowded train eliminates any drive he has to chat. As a ‘joke’ on a quiet train ride, Goro whips up a few theories on Ren’s origin: hacked out of a lotus tuber a la Princess Kaguya, a lab rat gone wrong or right, an anomaly stolen from a pond somewhere.

The list goes on, and currently every entry is in equal contention for ‘true’.

When they disembark and exit the station Ren pulls the leaf umbrella back out. 

Being quiet on a crowded train is one thing, but the silence as they walk to his apartment is suffocating.

“Shall we exchange numbers?”

“No.” Ren says, and leaves it at that long enough for Goro to get a bit offended. “Well we could.”

He pulls the brick out and makes to hand it to Goro. Seeing where this is going Goro shoves his phone at Ren because he’s not going to mess with that fossil.

“This is huge,” Ren murmurs in awe and squinting at the screen. “And bright.”

Goro rolls his eyes, “welcome to the present.”

Upon hitting ‘call’ a jingling shrill MIDI rendition of something blasts from the brick in Ren’s hand. 

“Hello?” 

Several responses come to mind.

“Is this really your phone?” Ends up being the least mean one. For some reason he plays along, holding the phone to his ear. Looking at the ridiculous flower and his period piece before him.

“Cute huh?”

Goro hangs up, they make it to his apartment shortly after. 

Ren strides in first. Not even bothering to zip himself up and letting it all hang out.

It’s kind of nostalgic. After hearing the way other people spoke of nostalgia he got the impression it would be nice. Funny how that works.

“Hey Akechi?” Ren calls out from the kitchen. “How do you want these?” He asks, rustling the sack of lotus roots.

“In the fridge?” Goro says nervously. He wasn’t eating a whole lot of lotus roots before, he’s definitely eating less now.

“How do you eat them?” Ren stares at him then mimics a pose like he’s hosting a cooking masterclass. “We usually pickle them.”

Goro stops him right there. “Hold on you’re eating these as well?”

“Yeah they’re good for you.”

Goro feels strange, slightly wrong. Like every time he’s witnessed a pigeon eating fried chicken out of the bin.

At Goro’s phone rings and the ID fills him with dread.

The boss never calls unannounced.

“Sorry I have to take this,” he says to Ren quickly then picks up.

“Is there a reason you’ve been putting this off?”

This is going to be quite the talk, Goro paces around the living room. “There’s a problem.”

“I don’t want to hear about your problems. Talk to me about solutions.”

Goro squeezes the phone for a moment. He has the patience of a saint and it will run out one day.

“Akechi!” Ren calls from the kitchen. “Can I eat this?” He asks waving around an apple.

“Is someone else there?”

“No,” Goro says sharply and glares at Ren, who sticks his tongue at him then goes down the hallway.

“It’s just the TV.” He wants to slap himself the moment the words leave his mouth.

There’s a pause and Goro scrambles for an excuse that won’t sink him deeper. 

“So have you found him yet?”

He breathes out a tiny bit. “Sir, what do the researchers say about someone with no metaverse presence?” 

There are murmurings intelligible conversation as the boss consults with his ever present metaverse scholars.

“That’s not possible.”

Goro briefly covers the receiver as he takes a few deep breaths.

“Then with all due respect there is no Kurusu Akira in the metaverse,” Goro says. “Sir.”

There’s a pause at the other end, too long. It lasts too long and it’s too quiet.

“You must be tired. Why don’t you take a break? I’ll find someone else to deal with this.”

Grey static begins to take over his mind.

“What if he’s dead!?” Goro shouts. “He won’t show up if-“

The line goes to the tone. There’s a deafening clatter as his phone hits the floor.

What happens next is a bit of a blur. Can’t see can’t hear can’t anything through the crackling fuzzy static.

“Akechi stop!” 

His shoulders stretch in their sockets. The static begins to dissipate. Broken plates litter the floor and he has a mug in his hand. There’s no reason to stop here so he tries to have it join its friends on the linoleum floor.

“Stop it!” 

Ren has emerged from the toilet at some point in the immediate past and is holding his wrists back. Goro’s eyes drift to where Ren’s thumb and fingers meet around his left wrist.

Tugging harsh and quick in that direction frees his wrist. There’s a sickening crack and a grunt behind him as he smashes the mug to the floor. His arms fall to his sides, hanging off his shoulders like lead weights. 

Then he notices the small leaves and stems wound tight around his arms save for one. The loose one trails from his wrist to the floor and it’s dribbling a bit from where it was…

Oh.

“C’mon, let’s sit.” Ren says quietly, holding his right wrist with his hand. Ren grabs a bottle of water and they just kind of float to the sofa. It’s all very confusing.

Ren twists the cap and the bottle is handed to him. There’s a faint crunch of plastic as he grips it and jams the bottle at his face.

“Small sips,” Ren’s voice sounds far away. “Don’t chug.”

Goro stifles a cough. The water hurts hitting his throat, every contact feels like a stab and paradoxically like it’s drying his throat out more. 

He can only imagine how he was earlier.

The vines around his arms go slack. Goro slowly sips at the water.

Ren’s hand is warm but skittish, fleeting pats on his arm make his skin itch.

“That’s it,” Ren touches his arm. “Honey tea might help more,” he says quietly, “should I…?”

Goro swallows roughly around the brambles stuck in his throat.

“Get out,” he croaks. 

Everything’s hot and fading out. His head is overstuffed.

Ren looks at him, impassive as ever but there’s a certain crease to his eyes that has the pressure in Goro’s brain rocketing up.

_“Get out.”_

Long after the front door shuts it’s still warm where Ren touched his arm. He rubs at the spot only for the leaf he ripped out of Ren’s back to slip to the ground.

Goro pokes the stem into the unfinished water bottle.

***

Kurusu Akira.

It’s a name he has become intimate with.

Kurusu Akira was in Inaba. A year ago he had been slapped with an assault charge at an age young enough to void his record of helpful details, photos for example. Soon after, he was sent to Tokyo and was on record as living with a voluntary probation officer in town. A voluntary probation officer that could not possibly be harbouring anything.

Goro could personally verify that. He smirks wryly. 

Also a fake one. Principal Kobayakawa was the only one in the residence when Goro had paid him a visit, and that had been well after he’d taken Kurusu Akira in.

According to the phony record anyway.

However there was something to be said for the principal of Shujin being involved. Looking through the student rosters of this year and yesteryear had turned up no Kurusu Akira, and that was where the trail went cold. No matter how many times he traversed it the trail stayed just as cold.

So his boss had some kind of loose end running around. A loose end with a cold trail a few months long. A forged one at that.

He has a few ideas on who this unnamed victim is. Each one makes Goro want to give this Kurusu Akira a medal.

On the phone Goro had spouted the dead man theory as a last resort, but the more he thought about it it was the only one that made sense. According to the researchers it wasn’t possible for someone to be completely absent from the metaverse. 

There had to be some bad faith omission on the boss’s part. The deceased would not have any presence. Or whatever implanted this rigid belief of Kurusu Akira’s living status into the boss had to be fake.

Shame. Further shame since it isn’t his business anymore.

He wants it to be.

Want is an odd word. The boss hasn’t called for a while. Which is normal, except his recent failure makes those days much longer.

A minor failure will not eliminate the usefulness of his unique power. A ‘minor’ ‘failure’ will not-

Stop.

He tries to switch his attention to something else, anything but Kurusu Akira. His gaze falls on the leaf still in the water bottle from the other day.

The pond-stained ripped uniform. 

Goro lethargically rolls over on the sofa. These Shujin rosters might come in handy just yet.

Only one commitment today, there was a first for everything and today that first is calling in sick. Heaven willing there won’t be a repeat incident.

He fumbles for his briefcase and fishes out the rosters.

He distinctly remembers the “2” pin on the Shujin blazer he found Ren in. Flipping open the roster he looks for second year Sakura Rens, he comes out empty handed. Which leaves him searching for everyone with the first name Ren, he has a pretty good idea of which kanji they use.

Regardless of which character they use, none of the Rens look like the Yongen-Jaya bathhouse dweller.

Goro concludes that no one actually attends Shujin. He’s even a little dubious about Sae’s little sister. Slamming the roster shut he throws it into a corner. It’s almost time.

A whirlwind two hours later Goro shows up to the shrine fresh and clean. The opposite of someone who let themselves drop twenty levels past decent over the weekend.

It’s that time of year. Living alone in the big city meant Goro had to make a lot of concessions, which involved visiting the shrine before Obon came into full swing.

An idea that unfortunately more people were latching on to each year.

He doesn’t notice anything about the couple before him, but when they turn around Goro gasps.

“Mr. Sakura and Wakaba!”

Sojiro makes a face and waves his hand. “Quit with the mister this missus that, it’s Sojiro. So what brings you here?”

“Mother,” Goro says simply.

Sojiro spares a moment to take his hat off and bow his head. 

“What about you?” Goro asks.

Wakaba hangs her head. Sojiro looks to the heavens. 

“Some rascal kid.” 

“A family friend?” The waters are still, but deep below Goro senses something that hasn’t been fully put to rest.

“The parents were close friends of a Leblanc regular.”

With every word Sojiro says Wakaba looks more distraught.

“So this child.” Goro tries to reign the conversation in.

“Kid raised a bit of hell and his parents kicked him out. The regular begged me to take him in.” Sojiro’s hand fidgets. Goro feels like he’d be taking a drag on a cigarette in a different setting.

“I agreed, but the kid never made it.”

“Perhaps he decided to go out on his own?” ‘Ran away’ maybe?

Sojiro shakes his head. At the stricken expression on both their faces, Goro doesn’t have the heart to press further.

“Give him my regards,” Goro says bowing his head.

“I‘m sure he’ll appreciate that.” 

Wakaba stands straight as Sojiro gets ready to leave. “Tell your mother we said hi.”

“Will do.”

It’s been a while since he’s visited Yongen, he might be due for a trip.

***

The opportunity arises on a sweaty afternoon at the office.

“I can’t do this!” Sae abruptly slumps on her desk.

“Hang in there Sae,” Goro responds without looking up from his paperwork.

The aircon blew out at some point. Morale in the office was especially low today. 

“Hey should we go to Leblanc? Sojiro said you usually visit a lot, Wakaba too. They said you haven’t been by lately though.” Sae says with a hum. 

“They’re both nice places to spend time,” he shrugs.

“Yeah,” Sae trails off. “It’s a shame about the lotus pond.”

Goro looks up from his paperwork. “What about it?”

“Oh,” Sae looks at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “They had to clear out the flowers to clean the pond. Apparently the actual pond is much larger than what you can see from the lobby.”

“Is that right.” Goro murmurs. He starts shuffling his paperwork, “to Leblanc then?”

Sae beams at him. “You’re the best.”

They take up their usual spots, one empty seat in between for shared storage. 

Eventually Sae has to leave due to a family dinner obligation. Goro opts to stay, leaving just him and Sojiro watching the TV.

“I hear Ren hasn’t been at the bathhouse,” Goro says when the TV hits a commercial break.

“No. The little hypochondriac keeps saying he’ll boil to death in this heat.”

“I see.”

Goro looks at the clock and frowns. Just a little more time would be ideal.

“If you need to stay longer it’s fine,” Sojiro says, apparently reading his thoughts. “Just flip the sign on your way out.”

“That’s very generous of you Mr. Sakura,” he winces, remembering what Sojiro said at the shrine. It’s a difficult habit to break. “What about lock up?”

Sojiro waves a hand, “don’t worry about that. I’m off, don’t work too hard.”

“I’ll be out soon,” Goro replies merrily. Then he’s alone in Leblanc.

It’s different when it’s dark and he’s alone. The ticking of the clock echoes through the cafe. Something in the kitchen drips. He can’t focus like this.

The moment he steps behind the counter to investigate the dripping, a loud creak comes from the stairs. He freezes but the creaking persists. Sojiro didn’t mention anyone else here.

“No customers behind the counter.”

Goro whirls around to find a familiar face. 

Ren quietly walks past him and turns the knob of the kitchen sink, stopping the leak. He’s wearing a tank top, except the garden forces the fabric to bunch around his shoulders. The foliage on Ren’s back looks healthy and plentiful, but contained. Every stem is shorter, the leaves and blossoms are smaller. Short enough they don’t drag on the floor but long enough to bump into walls and appliances.

And Goro, he notes dragging his fingers through the yellow smear on his cheek.

“Come upstairs?” Ren asks. “It’s creepy here at night.”

‘Creepy’ is rich coming from him.

Ren lets him go up first. Doing so in a new setting is undesirable, but an errant look in the wrong part of Ren’s back would be worse.

At the top of the stairs is a rainforest. 

He can hardly see the floor there’s so many giant potted plants with huge leaves. Permeating the air is a gentle mist accompanied by a constant hiss. An army of humidifiers dot the ground, each glowing a soft pastel.

It must be murder on the wood. Goro watches the condensate gather on his attaché case.

“There’s a desk.” Ren points to the corner with the brightest light. To his relief the desk is dry. 

There’s a crinkle with each step he takes through the forest, coming from plastic covering the floor. He sets his case on the desk and freezes as something odd sounds in the attic.

“Was that a meow?” 

Turning around he finds Ren standing naked in a large oil drum full of water. Staring longingly at a cat perched on the window sill. He quickly looks away.

It probably doesn’t even rank on the list of weird things he’s caught Ren doing, it still throws Goro out of his element. 

“That your cat?”

“No.”

Goro slowly turns to peek back at Ren, fully turning around upon seeing Ren properly submerged in the drum. 

“Mona’s not a cat.” Ren continues.

“Like how you’re not a plant,” Goro knows how this game goes.

“Not like that.”

Ren stretches his arm to Mona, Mona walks forth and stops an inch before Ren’s hand. Neither move to bridge the gap.

“I’m allergic to Mona,” Ren says mournfully, “and Mona’s allergic to me.”

“The spitting image of Romeo and Juliet,” Goro says with faux lament. 

“Yeah.” Ren still has his arm outstretched.

It turns into real lament. 

Goro sighs and walks towards Ren and Mona. Holding the edge behind Ren’s head he leans against the drum. “I’ll pet Mona for you.”

Ren gasps dramatically, “really?”

His smile radiates like the sun, the lotuses wreathing him to drink in his light. It’s blinding.

“Yes,” Goro wheezes around a small cough. “Of course. I would love to.”

As he reaches up Mona backs away slightly.

“Let him sniff you,” Ren says then turns to Mona. “He’s petting you for me.”

Goro holds his hand still. Mona leans forward, his nose twitches a bit then he pulls back and meows.

“He says go ahead.”

There’s a splash as Ren leans on the edge of the drum. 

Goro scratches the top of Mona’s head, behind his ears, and moves to his chin. Right then Mona shakes himself out and wanders to the end of the window sill with another meow.

“Mona’s had enough.”

Neither of them move. However something on the periphery catches his eye and he grabs it. The stem of a blossom presumably aiming for his face.

“You’ll have to try something new I’m afraid.” Goro twirls the flower.

Ren sinks into the drum and blows bubbles in the the water before turning to look at Goro. 

“Come closer.”

The last time Ren did this it was to steal food. As he doesn’t have any food on him at the moment Goro supposes he’ll indulge him. 

He steps next to the barrel.

“Closer.”

Goro squints at him then crouches down a bit.

In a flurry of movement there’s a loud splash, something warm and soft presses against his cheek for two seconds, then it’s all gone with another loud splash.

Ren’s completely submerged himself in the barrel while Goro stands there wet and confused. He touches his cheek, no pollen this time but there’s that warmth. 

Then his cheeks heat up and _he_ wants to hide in a barrel full of water. If he doesn’t get that mercy then neither does Ren.

He reaches into the water towards Ren’s ghostly form. A familiar feeling.

“Not going to grab on to me this time?” Goro teases, planting his hand on Ren’s shoulder and piling the sugar on his voice. 

Ren comes back to the surface, only keeping his head above water.

“I’m a nice flower.”

Goro barely contains the urge to snort at that. 

“This is new.” He laughs and his lips fall into an easy smile. “So am I speaking to Ren or the flower?”

Ren goes quiet, dark fringe casting shadows over his face.

“To Akira,” Ren mumbles looking down.


	7. Chapter 7

**Day 0**

Last night he dreamt he was immense. Floating in a warm sea, omnipresent mass spread thin.

Today he wakes up small, compact, but ready to spread his roots.

“The Anti-Shadow Suppression Weapons. Do you have any materials left from that time?”

He soaks in the voice.

“I don’t need an active unit or the software. It’s okay if they’re rusty, I just need the human shells. Not my first choice but you know, ethics and all that.” The laugh at the end makes all his little lotus fibres stand on end.

“Yeah yeah I know the Kirijo Group isn’t that kind of organisation anymore. Let me know if you find something. Yup. Bye bye.”

He floats about his warm vase on the windowsill.

“Your big day is coming soon Five,” the voice sounds closer. “Everyone said I should leave the TV on for you, I’m worried it’ll be a bad influence though.”

There’s a moment of silence and then a bunch of garbled sounds he can’t understand. The furthest he gets is picking out two new voices, one airy and pleasant.

“An interview with a detective who’s still in high school? He seems harmless enough. I’ll be back in a bit.”

***

“I found him,” Goro says. Hopefully his voice isn’t too trembly.

“Well done Akechi, I knew you could do it.” 

“It was outside of the metaverse though.”

“Even better. Bring him to me.” 

Bring? Goro slowly digests that. Not shut down, outside of the metaverse. Bring.

“Alive?” Goro says scrunching his eyebrows.

“Yes alive. Intact. You worthless-!”

There’s a beep on the other end.

“I’ve got another call. We’ll talk later.”

He’s got this all twisted.

Despite ‘Akira’ himself coming out to Goro the outing had proved remarkably unhelpful.

‘Do you know why you’re not Akira anymore?’

‘How do you know you were Akira in the first place?’

Questions that had all been met with Ren shaking his head. If he couldn’t even answer those, chances are he wouldn’t know what the boss wanted with Akira.

A little part of him doubts the veracity of what Ren said but he didn’t have anything else to go on.

***

**Day 1**

“Tell Mitsuru that the partnership is off, and I won’t be needing those shells.”

His eyelids rise. Muted colours flood his vision. Muted but compared to the previous nothingness, saturated enough to sting his eyes. He’s still compact, but much less so.

The familiar voice heaves a sigh. “And I’m inviting her out for lunch the next time she comes down, my treat. So we can ‘catch up’.”

The first human has short black hair and round thick glasses. Glasses that magnify a deep sad sea.

Sight isn’t entirely new, but seeing like this is. Colours, shapes, they all fizzle and pop in his head and eyes.

Head. Eyes.

Technically he should be alarmed. There’s a part of him that will go to the grave screaming that he’s been warped beyond return. A larger part, the memories, say that this is how it’s always been.

“Akira are you awake?” she asks, voice a stark contrast to her expression. “Blink twice if you can hear me.”

Blink?

Why he can do much more than blink. He makes to jump off the table and say a ‘howdy!’.

Except his limbs don’t move, his vocal chords remain stock still. Eventually they manage a muffled groan like rotting wood being squeezed. 

He rests heavy on the hard metal table like a slab of meat.

He blinks twice.

“Oh good. You won’t be able to do much moving for now. That should change soon though. You’re adjusting faster than projected.”

He smells incense. The woman wears a black suit, black shirt and tie.

“Get some rest for now. You need it.”

Rest for what? 

A phone rings, the woman’s shoes clack with every step she takes. He feels every sound on the microscopic hairs on his skin.

“Yeah I received your ‘delivery’. I’m sure a kid that died of chronic ‘stabbed in the back’ filled out all the proper donor forms.” the woman all but spits. “The certificate says heart failure! He was fifteen! What the hell is this?”

The clacking stops, he cracks an eye open to find her standing still and covering her mouth.

“You wouldn’t,” she gasps. “No, I take that back. You dropped the proof off on my doorstep.”

She sighs, “he’s awake, the procedure was a success. Stay away from Futaba. I’ll start training him soon.”

After she hangs up their eyes meet. From that moment on her gaze makes him feel like she doesn’t see him. Her eyes are on him sure, but they look through him. They look at something behind him, inside him.

Something he once was, or will be, or is supposed to be.

It goes on for long enough that he thinks that it’s normal. That’s just how she looks at him.

The first human is Wakaba he later learns, and that humans are a dime a dozen, and that he is human. So he stops calling her the first human.

***

The easiest candidate would be to grill the boss’s shadow but even in his own palace the shadow is a paranoid shut-in. All the fighting Goro would have to go through for the chat isn’t worth it. The boss that is, there might be someone else on the ship worth talking to.

Cognitions aren’t exempt from lying, but they tended to be more honest. Easier to extract information from. The boss’s contacts tended to fall either in the influencer or bankroller camps. 

Or his omnipresent posse of metaverse scholars.

He’s never seen them on the ship, but he’s also never looked.

***

“Your name is Kurusu Akira,” Wakaba narrates from a file, voice void of any intonation or emotion. “You spent all your life in Inaba until one day you racked up an assault charge and your parents threw you out of the house without a second thought.”

“Okay,” he says. It sounds foreign, far away, but he’ll take Wakaba’s word for it.

“How does this all make you feel?”

He shrugs. If he’s supposed to be feeling something Wakaba’s riveting rendition of events isn’t helping.

“Rebellious perhaps?” Wakaba offers.

He submerges a leaf pad and fills it with water, then pours it over himself.

Wakaba clutches her head in her hands, the phone rings. She grumbles and heads over to the phone. “Yeah I’m trying but I can’t teach what I have no experience with.” 

She’s pacing around the room again, she always does when she gets that one call.

“You said our benefactor knows a metaverse user right? It’d be a lot faster if you just sent them down here and had them teach Akira directly.”

There’s a long quiet, Wakaba stops pacing.

“I see.”

Soon she hangs up and she’s walking back to his tank. “Forget everything, we’re done here.”

***

Goro stands on the top deck before the mock Diet building in the boss’s mind. Idly snapping his fingers and juggling his masks.

One mask keeps people and shadows away from him, but it also keeps him out of where he needs to go.

The other has cruise patrons and shadows all over him, but it opens certain doors.

Goro stops snapping and dons the red crow mask.

The same scene greets him every time he walks in. Masked party-goers, intercoms blaring the same unintelligible campaign drivel. He walks by them standing tall.

He has a map of the ship, of course it doesn’t mark anything so useful as “omnipresent metaverse scholars and medical personnel here”. It doesn’t appear that any of them are one of the letter carrying VIPs either.

Presumably the VIPs dealt with whoever sends Goro shutdown orders though, maybe he could ask them.

***

He dreams of warm waters and stretching out.

He wakes up floating in a tepid tank. Smaller than the usual one, much smaller. 

Someone’s touching his back. Inside his back and it tickles.

“Akira stay still or I might cut off something important,” says Wakaba’s muffled voice.

“Okay,” he settles down. Keeps quiet long enough to hear a few more telltale snips.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Snip. “Making space.” Snip. “Improving your mobility.”

That sounds nice. Another snip comes close enough for the sound to thrum throughout him.

“How come?”

“We don’t have anything big enough to properly keep you in.”

A weighty leaf lands near his head with a splish and sinks past his face.

“And I’m going to put something here so no one can catch you from behind anymore.”

He thinks about that for a moment but nothing comes to mind, he dozes off.

When he wakes up it’s dark.

He squirms, he’s in some kind of large bag. 

It must be that field trip Wakaba mentioned where he has to play the quiet game in a body bag. A click sounds and something swings open, then he’s being dragged out.

“Let me help,” a new voice says.

“Don’t bother,” Wakaba replies. “I gave him a trim so he weighs nothing. Besides you have to take it easy since that surgery right?”

“That’s true. Speaking of surgery is there a reason you can’t do this yourself?” The new voice asks, “this is just a graduated crafts project after all.”

“Dunno how to suture,” Wakaba says. The new voice laughs.

Wakaba’s voice is not conventionally pleasant, but he likes it. It’s not the only one he’s heard, but it’s the only one he remembers for the time being. However this new voice is also lovely, conventionally so. It’s smooth and it makes him feel like he’s safe.

He’s set down on a table. Bright light stings his eyes as the bag unzips. When his eyes adjust he finds a woman with pale blue hair standing next to Wakaba.

“This is Naomi Kimishima,” Wakaba gestures at the woman. “She’s gonna sew a zipper onto your back.”

“Hullo,” he waves at her.

She smiles then there’s a rumbling and she pulls out her phone. He watches as an odious ichor melts and swirls about the device. He doesn’t remember phones doing that but what does he know.

The look that Wakaba and Naomi exchange seem to back that thought up.

Naomi picks up the phone, no greeting. 

“Wakaba, what’s going on here?”

“I can’t tell you.” 

“You want me to ignore my revoked licence and amnesty to install a zipper on his back,” Naomi flips her phone shut. “I deserve to know.”

Wakaba purses her lips. 

Naomi sighs, “at least tell me what the zipper’s for?”

“Akira can you please turn around for Naomi?”

He crawls around the gurney until his back faces Naomi and Wakaba, he kicks the body bag off the gurney in the process.

“Careful not to look into the corners,” Wakaba warns. “He can’t go outside like this.”

“Wakaba what have you gotten yourself into?”

“A lot. I still think your phone is bullshit by the way.” 

Naomi laughs. “Maybe it’s something to do with your precious ‘Metaverse’.”

Wakaba stomps. “Excuse you the Metaverse is very real and the subject of a field of study called cognitive psience that I invented.” 

“‘Science’.”

“Pscience!” Wakaba stomps again.

Naomi begins sticking patches with wires attached to them to his chest. “I’ll try giving him anesthetic but given his makeup I’m not sure if it’ll do anything.”

“Don’t bother, his nervous system died when he did,” Wakaba says with a snort. “Also he doesn’t have a pulse.”

The second human, Naomi, walks over next to him. She presses a stethoscope to his arm. “Tell me what this feels like.”

He looks at the offending item. “Smooth and cold.”

Naomi replaces the stethoscope with her palm. “And this?”

He tilts his head when looking at her, “warmer.”

The spot on his arm is a bit pink under the attention, she pinches the area.

“Ow!” He glares at her, yanking his arm away.

Naomi stands up and gives Wakaba a look.

“Well I better get started.” Naomi waves at Wakaba. “All parents out of the room.”

Wakaba scoffs. “Excuse me he’s my subject.”

“He’s my patient and I can’t risk anyone interfering with the procedure. Now out.”

Wakaba leaves and then Naomi’s cloudy eyes lock onto him. Not through him, not at something behind him or inside him.

Not at something he was or will be, or is supposed to be.

Him, now.

“What’s your name? I’d like to know who I’m coming out of retirement to operate on.” She says with a gentle smile, her eyes make him feel bare. It doesn’t help that he’s half-naked on a gurney.

He racks through the shelves of the mental library unceremoniously dumped upon him.

“A-“

“I asked what’s _your_ name?”

The word comes to him easy. Ren opens his mouth to speak.

***

“And who are you?” Says the middle aged man at the slots.

“Akechi Goro.” Goro replies.

“Oh the detective prince himself! What brings you here?”

“The people who broker the shutdowns, do you know where I might find them?”

The tv president laughs. “Has the detective prince got a problem? I think I saw one of them at the lido deck. Speaking to the noble.”

His tour through the ship is going smooth, too smooth.

***

Naomi says it’s been a few days, but Naomi also said that he wouldn’t feel a thing. Which was partially true, Ren stopped feeling anything after he passed out from whatever dark ritual she conducted on him.

“Well I installed the zipper and it works great but…”

Ren doesn’t catch the rest of what she’s saying because it feels like his spine is on fire and being stabbed by needles.

“I don’t think he processes things normally. Analgesics, anesthetic, and antibiotics for example.”

Wakaba nods, “makes sense.”

Every minute his spine flip flops between the painful kind of being on fire and the itchy kind of being on fire. Naomi says the itching means he’s healing.

“However plant food is quite effective in boosting whatever healing agents he has.”

The gurney creaks as he wriggles forth, reaching for the bag on a nearby table.

“How did you find that out?”

“I didn’t,” she says, nonchalantly snatching the bag off the table and out of his reach. “It’s an effective immune booster in limited doses. Larger quantities appear to cause inebriation and burn his leaves.”

“I see.” Wakaba says. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Naomi hands the bag to Wakaba. “Only one of these a week, diluted with five hundred millilitres of water at least. Cut him off as soon as the inflammation goes down.”

Someone’s zipping him up and Ren grips the edges of the gurney for dear life because it feels _weird_.

He has a veritable dearth of new memories to his name, but nowhere is there anything like this.

Even when the inflammation goes down. The scabbing heals and the scar tissue goes from bright red to dull pink, the zipper never stops feeling weird.

***

Goro doesn’t see the noble on the lido deck, but there is a man that looks to be part of the boss’s crew. He’s not so sure, they all look the same.

He stands next to the man. Keeping shoulders stiff and rising to his full height, Goro clears his throat.

“Are you familiar with Kurusu Akira?”

The man looks up from his wine glass. “Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Were you on that project?”

“Project?” Goro hopes he doesn’t sound completely clueless.

***

Wakaba has been gone for a few days.

Ren gets ample sunlight, the tank’s filtration system is state of the art, and Wakaba left him the tv remote. An item he’s been getting a lot of use out of lately.

He turns the tv on. He doesn’t retain any of what happens but it’s still fun to watch.

_“And now we have a special guest! The lead detective on the Kobayakawa shutdown case, Akechi Goro!”_

Kobayakawa?

_“Well we found the Shujin principal to be engaged in illegal dealings with several organisations we can’t disclose at the moment. However given the nature of a shutdown it’s difficult to say if it’s related or not.”_

The screen cuts to a photo of a sweaty bald man wearing a too small tan suit. Something stirs in his head.

The phone rings.

He floats to the other side of the tank, drying his hands off before picking up the phone.

_“Hello? Dr. Isshiki?”_

“No,” Ren says.

_“No? Oh you must be Five! What a wonderful surprise!”_

Ren stares at the tv.

The caller clears his throat. _“So uh, how is your training?”_

Training? Ren looks to the clock. It’s the time where the person that makes Wakaba angry usually calls.

Training. He then looks to the treadmill that Wakaba had installed a few days ago. Stressing it was vital he get good at running as soon as possible.

“Good,” Ren says. “I run a lot.”

_“Oh? Uh, good?”_

Ren nods, “but I get tired fast.”

_“Ohh!? Huh? Hmm.”_

The caller sounds sweaty. Ren holds the phone further away from his ear and squints at the tv. Wakaba said it was an old model and the colours are off. The guest, the detective, wears a blindfold. Different cakes are being placed before him.

_“Well keep at it I’m sure you’ll get better. Um, about the metaverse-“_

There’s a loud slam as the door flies open. In comes Wakaba wearing a suit. Stomping over to Ren she tears the phone from his hand.

“Wakaba speaking.”

“Yeah he’s doing great. I have to get back to work,” she drops the phone onto the receiver.

It’s a different suit than the one he saw last time. A regular suit with a white shirt.

“You look nice,” Ren hangs over the edge of the tank.

“I got married today,” Wakaba says with a frown.

“Congratulations?”

“I guess.” Wakaba takes her jacket off and dons a pair of goggles. 

“Do you like the person?”

“Very much,” Wakaba beckons Ren to turn around, moving the stems to the side. “I just wish I didn’t have to do this.”

“Have to?”

“Yes,” Wakaba says instantly. “I made a mess. I have to clean it up.”

***

“Regrettably we had to dispose of the project lead. I haven’t heard that name since then.” The man leans back on his patio chair. “Wakaba was a genius, but you know sometimes it’s not good to be that smart.”

Goro does a double take before remembering the mother of cognitive psience was also named Wakaba. 

“So where does Kurusu Akira come into this?”

***

**Day [REDACTED]**

[redacted]

***

“That’s ah,” the man sounds sweaty. “That’s a bit classified.”

Goro adjusts his mask. “I heard Akechi found Kurusu Akira.”

“Yes I heard that too, who are you with again?” The man says.

Goro racks his mind for everyone affiliated with the conspiracy. 

“I’m part of the cleanup crew,” he stifles a wince. He’s not lying.

“What a coincidence!” The man claps his hands. “We’ll be sending your people the go ahead once Akechi brings us Five.” 

“Five?” 

“Oh,” the man waves a hand. “That was the project’s internal name before Kurusu donated his body to the cause,” he chuckles.

“What do you mean by ‘the go ahead’?” Goro asks, white fuzz filling up the corners of his mind.

“To deal with Akechi.”

It’s all he can do not to pass out on the spot.

“Oh that’s quite the face, this is the first you’ve heard of this?”

“Yes,” Goro murmurs blearily.

“Shido’s been saying it since the start but keeping that kid around is just asking for trouble.”

In that statement he finds something to hold on to. 

“Yes,” Goro says, more firm this time. “It is.”

The man stretches in the chair. “Horrible temper but that Shido’s scary with how good his hunches are sometimes. He’s been bankrolling Isshiki Wakaba to create an alternative to Akechi since the start.”

Isshiki Wakaba.

“And it’s ready?” Goro asks.

The man laughs to make his hair stand on end. “After a few choice adjustments.”

There’s a quiet moment where the man clad only in tan swim trunks and a knockoff black carnival mask swirls the wine in the glass.

“You know I spoke to Five once long ago.”

Goro waits for him to continue.

“It was only for a little while, five minutes at most.”

He beckons for Goro to come closer and raises his hand like he’s passing a secret.

“He seemed quite dim,” the man whispers. “It’ll be a shame to lose Akechi to someone like that. But I suppose that’s perfect for Shido. A lab grown assassin with no other loyalties.”

So they intend to replace him with an idiot.

Not if Goro has any say in that.

***

**Day ???**

Ren keeps telling himself to stop counting the humans, that they’re a dime a dozen, and that he is one. After meeting the first and the second he succeeds, for a while.

When he’s sure the world has disposed of him for good this time, a cold night in spring finds a warm hand clad in smooth black leather grabbing his wrist.

Ren can’t help making an exception.

***

The horribly familiar suffocating fuzz comes back to kill him. How on earth does one mess up this bad. Don’t dredge up weird shit from the lake. Do not pull up anything from the lake. It’s so simple.

Not to him apparently.

Funny how he could have solved this by doing literally nothing that cold night. It’s funny.

His body moves before his mind catches up.

_“Enter destination.”_

“Kurusu Ren?” He tries.

_“Not found.”_

“Sakura Ren.”

_“Not found.”_

“Ren.”

_“Not found.”_

Goro stares at the red screen on his phone.

“Five.”

_“Not found.”_

He shoves his phone back in his pocket. Cats and dogs having metaverse presence seemed more likely than flowers having one. It’s not something he’s put a lot of thought into.

Closing his eyes he slumps back on the sofa. It’s a shame things turned out this way. It’s nothing personal, nothing against Ren. He stumbled into a plan well underway that’s all.

So this is the hand that fate deals him. The same hand, the only one he’s ever known.

The most rotten hand imaginable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Easter egg for ppl familiar w trauma team


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh heads up for some violence but i’d say it’s on par w canon

It’s true form is beyond his grasp.

The more he thinks about maintaining “job security”, the more questions arise. However not thinking about it would be irresponsible. 

Talk to flowers and talk to them nice.

A lotus dies in the cold dark. Except this lotus also has a human husk to contend with. Lucky for Goro he isn’t the pioneer of this particular craft, of taking out Kurusu Akira regardless of what form he takes. Less lucky is that everyone before him failed and their failures offer no insight on what went wrong.

The souvenirs he extracted from Ren’s back rest in an evidence bag in his attaché case. Someone had come at Ren from behind and tossed him into the lake after the deed. Which clearly wasn’t enough to put Ren down for good, and Goro can’t beat shooting someone to death with a gun.

This would be carried out on his turf, until he remembers it’s not exactly his turf anymore. It’s not about having fun, it never is, but he welcomes a challenge.

If he could stand to bat with a user created by the mother of the field.

That puts a little smile to his face, like a bright-eyed youth on Christmas morning. Working, especially this work shouldn’t elate him so but all work and no play as they say. First step to a **** is to have fun and be yourself.

He thinks about himself then winces. 

No wonder they hadn’t employed his services in Dr. Isshiki’s case. Which turned out very well for them clearly. Either way ‘Isshiki Wakaba’ as she was known no longer exists, ‘Isshiki Wakaba’ pulls up no hits on the navigator. As far as Goro cares that’s the end of the matter, especially when there’s a much bigger flower to fry.

Goro looks to the leaf in the water bottle. He takes hold of the waxy stem. Starts to dig his nail in but stops short of breaking skin. If memory serves someone gifted him a small vase some time ago. Goro wanders off to dig through the veritable stock of junk in his house.

Goro will bring this to his turf, that was never in question.

The question is how. 

What drives Ren. What does he like.

Stealing Goro’s food and paying for it by losing over half of his plant mass.

Startling Goro by playing undead.

There just might be a theme to all this, he’s not sure. That theme isn’t someplace he wants to go however, so he looks for the broader picture.

Being an ornery little shit.

No. He takes a deep breath, a better broader picture. Untainted by this unsavoury feeling he calls home.

Incomprehensible on the best of days, but a lot of that could be chalked up to his unique circumstances.

Incomprehensible yet human actions though, that brings something to mind.

Goro plays a little game. News travels fast in this small town. He’s picked a fight with the law, and the law won. His parents have not attempted to find him despite year-

Months with no contact. If someone says his name it’s certainly bad. It does not deter him from telling people his cursed name, even after leaving it behind.

Goro shuts his eyes tight, this is where it gets a bit difficult.

Someone in his tiny social circle is upset, so upset they-

Goro winces, but he’s got the beginnings of a plan hammered out.

There’s no set day for action, but one afternoon has him restless. Jittery.

“What’s that sound?” Sae asks, leaning back in her chair.

“What sound?”

“That.” Sae points to his hand.

Goro looks to the pen in his hand, abruptly aware of his sore thumb. His cheeks flush. “Ah, my apologies.”

Sae laughs gently. “The morning radio said you’ll be guesting again.”

He nervously clicks the pen again. “That’s correct.”

“I thought you only did that variety show where they chat about current events.” Sae muses, “how come you’re going back to Kimishima’s show?”

Goro leans around the computer monitor and opposite him Sae follows suit. “Rent,” he whispers loudly. “Also the lobby’s snacks and tea are good.” He taps his index finger to his lips.

A diluted truth, but still a truth.

Sae jubilantly mimics zipping her lips.

***

Goro absently sips his coffee.

Preparing to drink something warm only to find it cold offers an exquisite feeling, disgust. 

A dry hand gently covers his mouth, Goro eventually finds the presence of mind to swallow. This isn’t his usual. While iced coffee is good in summer, he didn’t order one.

He follows the hand then arm to Ren, face flushed and gasping for breath between giggles. Ren takes his hand away.

“Your eyes totally bugged out.” A shrill gasp then another peal of laughter. “Thought you were gonna spit-take.”

“Don’t these usually come with straws?”

“Yeah. You’re holding one,” Ren points.

Goro looks to his hand. He’s right.

The ice clinks against the glass as he stirs said straw. No longer is the low din of other customers in the cafe. Time slows enough to count a few motes hanging in a sunbeam. The quiet amplifies the clinking, Goro stirs the straw with a bit more force than necessary.

Ren’s head rests on folded fingers, breathing more naturally now that he’s stopped laughing.

His role play had opened with Ren the doting flower fixing him a hot mug of his usual and asking what’s wrong. To his chagrin he’s confused Ren with someone else, hospitality professionals who start conversations perhaps.

An itch in his neck reminds him of the more accurate version of the scenario.

Without looking Goro grasps the stem floating towards him.

“What is this?” Goro asks. The flower, the iced coffee, he’ll let Ren take his pick.

“The aircon here is bad,” Ren chooses the coffee. “You seem focused.”

There’s one conclusion.

“I’m a good listener,” Ren adds.

Goro barks a laugh at that. Then a familiar voice sounds from the tv, he and Ren turn to face it.

“That’s you,” Ren says, evidently in the mood to tell it how it is today.

“It is,” Goro affirms.

A bumper comes on, teasing an interview regarding the death of one of the country’s remaining nobility.

Goro twirls the stem. He would deem himself a brilliant actor. Would.

It’s not an act if he isn’t acting. Nothing inherently weird about the gestures, but every forlorn glance and tired sigh feels magnified. Too conspicuous. He can’t keep waiting for perfect openings.

_‘He seemed quite dim.’_

Goro twirls the stem in the other direction. The last reason he wants to lose is underestimating the target. 

He’ll start off subtle.

“It’s quaint being unwanted in society,” he says with the air of Juliet’s soliloquy. “Yet,” Goro gestures to his own image with a flourish of his arm.

Ren says nothing, but there’s a new focus to his stare.

He has to fight the corners of his mouth quirking, fight the laughter hovering about his throat. He’s made that mistake, it didn’t play well.

“Some low-life man abandoned my mother after saddling her with a child.” Changing course, trying to paint the words with something more ‘appropriate’ than laughter. “She was shamed to death because of me,” he murmurs then takes a long sip of iced coffee.

“Akechi.”

“Would they applaud that? What do you think?” He adds, feeling particularly sadomasochistic. Usually he excuses himself after dropping that bomb.

Ren no longer leans on folded fingers. They curl into fists and tremble. Goro watches the skin over his knuckles stretch taut and white then go lax.

“It’s not.” Ren mutters low, a growl in his voice that throws Goro off. Here’s where his mock role play had fizzled to an end, leaving him upriver with no paddle. It wasn’t like he could deal with pity but that was a reaction he could anticipate. Looking to Ren’s face there’s an unfamiliar haze in his eyes. 

“Why-“ Ren bites his lip for a long moment then shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.”

“How do you know?” Goro replies easily.

“Akechi.”

“Do you feel anything when I do this?” He asks, holding the stem up for Ren to see then twirling the flower.

On the counter Ren’s fingers go slack. “Yeah.”

“What does it feel like?”

“You’re twisting my guts.”

Goro laughs despite himself and twirls the flower again. 

“Ren, would you mind going with me somewhere?” Goro says, feeling lucky. It helps that Ren likes going places. “If it’s no bother of course.”

“Okay.”

“It’s dangerous.” Goro says softly. 

“You made it out okay.”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Goro grips the glass hard.

“Not at all,” Ren giggles. “Let’s go.”

***

“Cut that out,” Goro hisses.

It’s not quite time for the weekday rush, but close enough that boarding the train is a fight. By habit Goro lets Ren have the spot next to the doors. All of five seconds passes before Ren starts twisting around.

Goro doesn’t bother snapping this time. Heaving a resigned sigh he moves back a bit, letting Ren turn so he’s not pinned to the door against his zipper. Except Ren keeps turning and now the zipper’s digging into Goro’s chest.

“I thought you were averse to having your back touched.” Goro says pointedly.

Ren hums and pulls out his brick to play snake. “Is it uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” Goro says too soon.

“Okay.”

It smells like flowers, it always does.

Ren remains stone faced through the train ride to Nagatacho, through Goro clearly using his phone to bring them into another dimension, and until they stand before the cognitive Diet.

Goro long fell behind on whatever dimension of chess they’ve hit. Here he thought he was good at mind games, but Ren. Ren is a brilliant actor, an award winning actor with how lost he seems with the iridescent shadows that chase their feet. 

Confusion looks good on him, anything other than his blank wall-eyed stare.

“What do you think?”

Ren looks around, eyebrows scrunched and face stricken.

Goro stares hard at Ren and his lost lamb act. He can feign ignorance all day, Goro knows the truth. Then they step into the faux Diet.

Maybe the nature of artificial rebellion is different. Red, white, and gold billow over Goro as they step in through the doors. Ren maintains his outfit and notably dons no mask.

His blood simmers. Here they are all because of Ren and he had the audacity to be the only one without a mask. 

“Is this a party?”

“Kind of.”

Ren stares at a loudspeaker.

The shadows leave them alone, too alone. Goro has half a mind to anger one into striking first, force Ren into showing his mask and persona. It’s like they’re avoiding them on purpose. Considering his company, that’s probably the case. The thought of the cognitions recognising Ren, or at least Akira, had crossed his mind.

Which is why they’re going to a very special room, low on the side deck. Where Goro won’t be interrupted.

He’d neglected to remember they could be interrupted in the interim.

“Yo buddy!” Someone shouts as soon as the walk out onto the lido deck. It doesn’t occur to Goro that the greeting is directed at them, at first.

Ren bristles next to him.

“Long time no see!”

That voice. A man struts over to stand before them. His shades and suit look more expensive than Goro and Ren put together.

This scumbag.

“Pardon?” Goro raises an eyebrow.

“Nah not you gumshoe. This little rascal right here.” The cleaner bends down and sneers at Ren.

“Have you two met?” Goro looks between the cleaner and Ren, standing like he’s going to fight or flee any second now. 

“Ohh yeah. Me and him go way back,” the cleaner pinches Ren’s cheek. “Lighten up little buddy, it wasn’t anything personal.” 

Something inside Goro crumbles.

“How’s that lady?” The cleaner snickers.

All the new information has the gears in his head churning at a crawl. The next second there’s an awful scream and they grind to a halt.

Goro looks up to see red dribbling from Ren’s mouth.

The cleaner howls, voice cut short when Ren spits something at his face. Wet smack deafening when it hits the cleaner’s cheek then splats on the floor.

Every foundation Goro has at the moment begins to wobble. Ren has yet to show off a persona and this is a good a chance as any to bring it out. His insides tremble as the cleaner yanks Ren by the throat and holds him up.

Mistakes have been made. He should have ended this the moment Ren turned up with no mask. Goro’s bullheadedness took them to the funeral, Ren’s savagery will nail the coffin shut.

“You wanna try that again?” The cleaner growls. 

Ren snarls back, baring teeth glittery with the cleaner’s blood. 

Goro has to get the situation under control now.

There’s another scream as Ren jabs his hand at the cleaner’s face nails first. The cleaner drops him and explodes into black ink. A huge monster rises from the puddle and takes the form of Ongyo-Ki.

Control.

Goro touches his mask and Loki materialises behind him sword raised.

“Stay outta this gumshoe!” The cleaner hollers, “boys!”

A loud crack sounds and thick smoke billows around him. For a millisecond all his hair stands on end and his legs spring into action before his head catches up. A fireball whizzes past him hitting the deck, leaving a smoking crater. Goro can’t see through the smoke, neither can Loki’s prehensile eye-feelers. Luckily there’s a move they don’t need eyes or feelers for. 

Goro shuts his eyes, it’s time to Call Chaos. Telltale black and blue ripples over him. Gold buttons give way to silver buckles on black belts. His red mask, fit for the ball hardens into a battle-ready visor. Black armour gradually encases his head.

His eyes open as the transformation finishes. The ocean breeze blows the smoke away, revealing three floating shadows. Baphomet.

In a fluid motion he switches masks and brings a light beam down on one of the shadows, knocking it off kilter. Accomplishment glows warm in his chest, then their beast of a situation shows its other heads.

“You gotta let things go,” The cleaner drawls in the distance. Walking towards Ren, now back on his feet. 

Between the two Baphomets floating Goro catches a glimpse of the halberd swinging and Ren hitting the floor. Smashed glasses skitter across the wood deck. Bending down the cleaner grabs Ren’s head in his monster hand and lifts him up. 

“You know that second time I was only there for the lady.” The cleaner slams Ren’s head against the deck. “Seems you got a history of doin’ unnecessary shit. Like diving in front of bullets with someone else’s name on them.”

Blood cakes Ren’s face and the floor around him. The shadows circle them but make no move to strike. Goro has a leg up on the grunts but nothing on the cleaner, 

“Can’t be doing that buddy.” The cleaner pats Ren’s head to no reaction, no flinching no struggle. “That’s how you get this,” he sneers, accentuating the statement by pulling Ren off the ground by the zipper tab.

“And _this_.” He sings, dropping Ren then digging two fingers into the core of the head wound.

“You’ve made your point,” Goro says curtly. “He learned his lesson.”

“‘Learned his lesson?’” The cleaner gasps and claps a hand to his cheek. _“Learned his lesson!?”_

The cleaner howls and hoots like Goro told him the funniest joke in the world. It sounds like a raven shrieking. He stops eventually, by virtue of lacking oxygen. Goro sees tears in the corners of his eyes. 

Talking their way out had seemed optimistic.

Ren’s head is so small in the monster’s hand, he lifts him up again. “Have you learned your lesson?”

Ren spits blood at the cleaner’s face.

The cleaner slams his head against the floor and grinds it around, 

“Have you learned your lesson?”

Goro doesn’t have to see Ren’s answer to turn away and shut his eyes tight. Missing another sickening wet squelch. Like rotten fruit hitting concrete.

They’ll be here forever at this rate.

“Megaton raid!” He screams and Robin Hood sends the monster flying to the side. Then lightning hits his back, Goro’s joints convulse in their sockets and he can’t move. 

The Baphomets, he forgot.

All his muscles reject any move Goro makes, residual lighting dances over his clothes. His head shudders violently when he tries to look up but otherwise doesn’t move where intended. 

“What will you do?” A voice rings. “Third time’s the charm?”

On cue he hears Ren shriek bloody murder.

“‘I’m exhausted. Why me.’ Is that not how you felt?

It’s happening.

Goro struggles harder against his rebelling body.

“Do you regret it? ‘If I stay down no more dying.’”

The shrieking rockets up an octave.

“‘No more running. No more fighting.’”

It’s happening.

“Will you stay down?”

His arm loosens up first. Goro pushes his chin up so he can see, nerves alight and screaming in protest all the while.

“No,” Ren croaks hoarse, but Goro reads him loud and clear.

Pushing himself to his feet, Ren claws at his face where there’s a-

“I’ll never..!”

The next seconds play in slow motion. The cleaner charges Ren and plunges the bladed end of the halberd into Ren’s stomach. With a careless flick of the halberd he shakes Ren’s body off the blade into the pool 

It might be his imagination but Goro swears he saw petals sticking out of the wound and the beginnings of Ren tearing off the mask.

“Now, back to business.” The cleaner says, turning to Goro.

Goro knows it’s a bad idea the moment he thinks of it. It’s never been done before, he doesn’t know what will happen, and he would incur the damage. Or benefit, but one doesn’t Call Chaos and benefit without paying a steep price. Doubly so for Calling Chaos twice, but he needs power now.

If he does this again he might as well not be wearing armour, his skin might as well be paper. 

But Akechi Goro likes to gamble, and it’s time to place his bet.

The cleaner smirks. Raising the halberd he bends his knees, ready to charge at Goro.

“Loki,” Goro touches his visor, ready to Call forth Chaos again.

“Arsene go!”

The air hisses as two vines shoot out and wind around the cleaner’s ankles. A harsh tug and the monster hits the deck with a mighty rumble.

Goro leaps on the opening and switches masks. Red, white, and gold wrap around him as Robin Hood casts kouga after kouga on the grunts. Despite their vulnerability to blessed magic, the spells damage them far less than ideal. At least he can keep them inactive.

He looks back to find the cleaner stabbing the vines before a third plucks the halberd from his grip.

Goro follows the retreating vine to its origin, and his jaw drops.

Torn petals litter the pool. Over the water looms a scarlet demon with feathery black wings spread wide. White lotuses bloom below literal stiletto heels and wreath its legs. At the centre of the red, white, and black mandala perches Ren on a leaf pad flanked by his garden. Mask on.

“I’ll never stay down,” he says quiet but thunderous. He leaps from the lily pad back onto the wood deck and charges the cleaner with the appropriated halberd.

For all the morning tokusatsu shows he watched in his youth, the daring dandies of the occident in his novels, he’d never seen a character like this. Clad in black and red. Chained to a demon and fighting like common vermin in a toppled dumpster.

Yet more striking than anything fiction had conjured. 

As gallant and majestic a figure Ren cuts, he’s still green. The halberd constantly drags along the floor, and when he stumbles or charges forward he leaves all his vitals unguarded.

Ren hits hard, but the cleaner shakes the hits off like they’re kisses of baby butterflies. Finally accepting the halberd isn’t for him, Ren wrenches off the bladed tip and tosses the staff into the pool.

Goro has to reign this in.

“Ren, here!”

They lock eyes for a moment before Goro tosses his gun at a nearby flower. Like a flytrap the blossom swallows it then returns to Ren. 

Ren’s awakening isn’t the second wind Goro thought it would be, but it buys him room to breathe.

One of the Baphomets turns to Ren. Raising its hand the air around Ren mists as ice engulfs him. Then it cracks apart, ice fragments taking bunches of stems clean off as they fall. Ren goes down with them. Goro absently notes the slit at the back of Ren’s outfit.

It frees him and hinders him.

When Ren gains his bearings he shoots at the Baphomet, not even trying to aim.

“Shoot better!” Goro shouts as he dodges an agidyne. “Don’t waste ammo.”

“Akechi your gun is weird,” Ren whines taking another shot. This time it hits the Baphomet at least, but pings off its horn.

“It’s for lefties!” Goro snarls as another three shots whizz past. 

There’s a metallic clicking and Goro sees lights on the gun blinking.

“Akechi it ran out!”

He groans. He should have finished this earlier. Ren wouldn’t have awakened, they wouldn’t have run into the cleaner, and Ren wouldn’t have squandered all his ammunition.

Out the corner of his eye he sees a Baphomet ready another spell, but his legs are done. They feel like lead, there’s no way he’ll be able to jump out of the way. With a resigned sigh he raises his sabre defensively, preparing for the worst.

Right when the Baphoment’s hand glows it stumbles in the air and the spell misses Goro. He sees the halberd tip clatter to the ground behind the Baphomet. 

Using the last dregs of Robin Hood’s power Goro readies another round of kouga spells. After casting the final one Ren makes a beeline for the light. 

All three spells connect. Setting off a chain of localised explosions disintegrating the Baphomets. Ren crouches close by, back to the blasts. After the glow hits its zenith and fades a thick mass of stems sprouts from Ren’s back and blooms. 

Their eyes meet for a moment then Ren charges off for the cleaner. Where on earth was he getting all this energy after being pummelled half to death?

Gripping the empty gun by the barrel Ren leaps onto the cleaner’s shoulders. He starts strong by whacking the beast’s head with the butt of the gun. 

Goro will really have to talk to him about respecting other people’s belongings. He power walks to the fray.

Ren whacks the cleaner’s head again and focuses all his garden on wrapping around the cleaner. A move that has Goro raising an eyebrow and pacing faster. Before his gun crumbles into dust from Ren mishandling it.

As if the powers that be heard that thought, Arsene flickers into being and Ren smashes the handle of the gun against the cleaner’s cheek.

“My face!” The cleaner bellows and makes to tear Ren off his back. His arm halts midway with force of Ren’s entire of garden restraining him. 

It won’t last. The cleaner claws through the vines as fast as Ren plants them, but it’ll do.

Falling over himself in his haste Goro finally makes it over. Raising his glowing sabre high he brings it down. Supplanting the stab with all his weight, his exhaustion, rage.

Seventeen years of scorn, of despair.

He screams and plunges the sabre into the beast’s back.

***

Shredded plant matter and burn marks litter the deck.

They lay there long enough to convince Goro the cognitive sun moves and there is some rotation of the earth taking place here.

The cleaner, once again human, sits up first.

Immediately Ren shakily pushes himself up with one arm, the other pawing for his mask.

“Chill,” the cleaner holds a hand up. “You’re too hot to handle, I’m done.”

Ren’s shoulders relax, if only a little.

“So was it worth it?” The cleaner drawls.

Goro’s chest hurts.

“Leave me alone,” Ren says.

“I will, they won’t.” The cleaner pulls out a lighter, the lid clinks as he flips and closes it. “You really know how to choose ‘em kid. Big boss man hates your guts, he’s gonna retire you the second the lab dwellers come up with something better.”

Clink.

“And so on.”

Clink.

“And so on.”

Something in Goro’s chest feels like it’s crumbling.

“Retire me?” Ren tilts his head.

The cleaner regards Ren for a moment. “Ah you’re better off not knowing.” 

Crumbling and sinking into acid.

“Driven out of Inaba,” the cleaner narrates to the sky. “Only a matter of time until you’re driven out of Tokyo. Where’re ya gonna go next?”

Ren stands up and tugs at Goro’s wrist.

“Home.”

They head for the doors.

“Ciao!” The cleaner shouts in the distance, raising them a two finger salute.

Goro raises him a one finger salute.

They eventually hobble back to the lobby, evidenced by the loudspeakers blaring empty promises. When they walk particularly close to a speaker Ren freezes.

“Ren?” Goro tugs at Ren’s wrist.

Ren clutches the sides of his head and his knees buckle. “That voice.” Ren murmurs as Goro lowers him into a crouch.

“He’s on TV a lot,” Goro says. It wouldn’t be a stretch for coverage of the United Front to reach Ren’s basement.

Ren shakes his head. “Inaba,” Ren mutters before surveying the room, gaze falling on a campaign poster. “He was in Inaba.”

Goro nearly drops him.

***

Goro wakes up to a dying sunset, perhaps he never made it off the ship.

“Oh you’re up.”

Goro’s shoulders jump, he rolls his head towards the voice. Unfortunately his vision is too blurry to make out where he is.

“Ren,” his voice sounds garbled and alien.

“Ren passed out when you two got here. He woke up the next morning though.”

Wait.

“You’ve been in and out for a week. This is Leblanc’s attic.”

Goro struggles to get up. 

“Ah ah.” Wakaba pushes him back down with ease. “Doctor’s orders are strict bed rest,” Wakaba says.

Goro closes his eyes and breathes out. Time to find out what Ren cooked up this time. “What happened?”

“Ren said you looked in his back. ‘On accident.’”

He doesn’t feel good about how she says that.

“Your symptoms line up with that, except his back only does enough damage to put someone out for a day.”

Feeling not good elevates to feeling really bad.

“Only bad people would go after a brat with his back turned. So I put a deterrent in there.”

A laptop shuts nearby. Goro opens his eyes to Wakaba staring at him.

His cheeks warm. “I was pruning him!”

“Ren’s back only does enough damage to render someone unconscious for a day.” Wakaba adjusts her glasses to stare into his soul with laser precision. “Unless that damage is enough to destroy the distortion.”

His blood runs cold.

“Usually patients in your state are a lot chattier. Very honest. They often report a feeling of waking up from the dream.”

It’s not- it wasn’t a dream.

“How’s your government job? They probably found a replacement for me by now.” Wakaba says it all like she’s talking about the weather. “Do they keep you in the loop on that kind of thing Akechi?”

“How?” Goro rasps.

“Call it a hunch.”

In the periphery Goro sees Wakaba stroking the card hanging around her neck with her thumb. If he squints, he can make out a photo inserted on the other side of the ID card.

“So those are my cards. I’d really appreciate if you could tell me some of yours.”

“I have a question.” Goro says shakily.

“Yes?”

“Before,” Goro trails off. “Ren wasn’t prepared for the metaverse.”

Wakaba shrugs. “I can’t teach what I don’t know.”

“You accepted the job. You must have tried,” Goro presses. 

“Our benefactor’s liaison mentioned already having a metaverse user in their employ. I thought training would fall to them.” 

Their eyes meet, Wakaba looks away first, “I was mistaken.”

“And then?”

“Ren can’t replace someone if he isn’t qualified.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Goro croaks.

“Because this is my fault and I would like to tell my family ahead of time if we need to change our names or move,” Wakaba monotones. “Again.”

“So what are your plans?” Wakaba asks. Head tilted so the glare on her glasses renders her unreadable.

What a question.

Wherever he goes, whatever he chooses, one thing comes first.

“I need time,” Goro pushes himself up to an immediate onslaught of sit up dizzies. “Everyone involved needs time.”

Wakaba blinks at him owlishly.

“The man who was sent after you believes Ren to be dead, unfortunately your benefactor believes otherwise.”

“Because of you?” Wakaba narrows her eyes at him.

Goro shakes his head. “No, since a few weeks ago he has been unreasonably certain about this. I told him Akira couldn’t be found in the metaverse which probably meant he died and he wasn’t having it. He won’t take it from me but…”

“You think he’d take it from the man sent to the lab?”

“Sent to the lab?” Goro scrunches his eyebrows.

“Smuggling Ren out happened under less than ideal circumstances,” Wakaba waves her hand. “So you have an idea?”

“Not exactly,” Goro looks down at his hands scrunching the thin blanket. “You mentioned distortions and honesty.”

Wakaba winces. “Except you’re the only one who’s had a distortion collapsed by Ren, and Ren’s back isn’t suited for offense.”

Goro had originally thought it to be semantics, now the correction seems important.

“I didn’t look into his back,” Goro says hastily. “Not this time at least.”

“Even better,” Wakaba rolls her eyes.

Goro takes a deep breath. Lines of a year old proposal float about his mind.

“You said it’s done by eliminating the distortion.”

“Yes,” Wakaba says carefully.

“Could you tell me how to induce that state?”

Wakaba sits up straight, “it’s not an induced state.” Then she slumps back, “the cognitive hazard was mostly guesswork done on the fly.” Wakaba smiles wryly. “We were pressed for time back then too. That man looked into Ren’s back when we were running and passed out. I can’t tell you what it’ll look like, but if you visit his distortion you should see what the hazard does.”

She pinches her ID card hard enough to bend it then stands up. “You should come by when you recover. As it stands I can’t translate my research into applicable action, you’ll have to tell me more.”

Goro holds back a scoff.

As she walks through the jungle of potted plants and humidifiers something comes to mind.

“It’s not your fault.” He says at Wakaba’s back.

Wakaba stills at the top of the staircase. “How do you know?”

“You didn’t pull the trigger did you?” Goro says at her back, voice a bit too loud. “It’s not your fault.”

For a long moment the attic is still save for the rustling of large leaves.

“I may as well have.”

Goro lays back down in the makeshift bed, listens to the footsteps fade and stairs creak. Hears a faint jingle as the door opens then shuts.

He closes his eyes, he’ll rest for just a bit.

Suddenly a thump sounds at the window, then a yowl to raise the dead. A black blur bounds onto the bed then leaps to the shelf.

Goro gasps, that’s his phone. The cat is running for the stairs with his phone in its mouth. Criminal apprehension mode kicking in he throws the blanket off and gives chase.

His leg buckles under his weight, having not supported him for a week. Pushing himself back he takes the stairs down two by two. 

Downstairs the cat hangs off the door handle. It’s picking the lock. 

He wants so badly to give in to astonishment but that’s his phone on the floor. That comes first. Right as he walks within range the cat works the door open. It snatches his phone back and runs out the door.

Never mind astonishment, Goro considers giving in full stop. Chasing after a cat outside in borrowed pyjamas is one bridge outside his range of comfort. The phone can be the cat’s problem now. It can replace him and Ren. He doesn’t care.

Goro hears something suspiciously similar to a smartphone being dropped on asphalt, then more meowing. 

It would be poor form if he didn’t check now.

Goro walks out the door to a quiet and empty Yongen.

Across from Leblanc a dilapidated building sprouts from the ground, dwarfing the surrounding houses. Dingy fluorescent lights flicker inside, the flickering coincides with the buzzing and humming in the air.

“Oi!”

Goro looks down and does a double take, “monster!?”

“I’m not a monster!” The cat mascot thing yells. “You petted me!”

The only thing he’s pet in recent memory is…

“Mona?” He tries again.

“That’s better.” Mona crosses his arms. “Now, you were talking about getting someone to confess their wrongdoings?”

“This is a palace,” Goro’s voice rises with alarm as he looks around. “Whose palace is this?”

“You have to ask?” Mona’s ears droop.

One of the lights explodes in a shower of sparks.

“Don’t worry about this place for now.” Mona looks at the building, tail swishing. As Mona says that the building melts away. Goro watches it sink back into the ground. When he looks back at Mona he finds him quadrupedal once again.

“Hey!” 

Goro nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Oh good it worked,” Mona yawns. “You have to see me talk in the metaverse first for it to work.”

“So when Ren was translating for you…” Goro furrows his brows.

“As I was saying!” Mona yells. “I heard you’re interested in changing hearts.”

Goro has an experience with someone telling him about something neat that can be done in the metaverse. It’s not a good one.

But Akechi Goro likes to gamble, and it’s time to place his bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time i think I’ve finally made the dumbest most indulgent thing i’ll Ever create i prove myself wrong.


	9. Chapter 9

Another place, another time, but here they are again.

The cleaner squatting in velour slacks and playing with his lighter. Goro settling on the toppled staircase. Morgana plops down next to him and rubs his cheek on the shiny lighter they got, another one. Their hard won treasure.

“I quit smoking when we had our baby,” the cleaner says.

“That’s not what I asked,” Goro says from his perch. Training his pistol arm on the ruler is a habit he must unlearn. Morgana says after they accept their treasure is gone a ruler will give it all up. That Goro won’t have to throttle anything out of him.

Which sounds sick.

“You gonna let me parlay or not gumshoe?” The cleaner snaps. 

Parlay implies this will be a two-sided discussion but he holds his tongue. 

“Anyways, kid’s in high school. My kid at least, that weird kid was s’posed to be in high school.”

“Quit calling him weird!” Morgana shouts between purrs.

“I guess he wouldn’t be weird to a talking cat.”

“Why was he weird?” Goro interjects. Narrowly avoiding the temptation to ask ‘why do _you_ think he’s weird?’

“Had to take out a hit on him and saw him bagged up after. Had to do it again.” The cleaner scratches his chin, “was one of them insulated things. Like a big lunch bag, shoulda figured something was off.”

“And this order came from?”

The cleaner snorts, “big boss man of your friendly neighbourhood UFP.”

“Why?” Goro presses.

“Kid have you seen his back?” 

“Why him specifically?” Goro clarifies. A coverup in Inaba, a twice-hired hit, possibly a thrice-hired hit down the road. A phalanx enlisted to trample an ant.

“‘Some things fell into place, that’s all.’” The cleaner monotones with air quotes, “that’s what he said when I asked. Also said not to rough him up too hard.”

Goro opens his mouth but the cleaner holds up a hand. “I’m getting there.”

“You’re decent people,” the cleaner flips the lighter lid. “Up when the sun is, sleep when it’s down. Not us.” 

Flip.

“That principal was your usual shitbag. King has to stay close to his castle and all that.” Flip. “So I’m wading through all these kids in uniforms at the ass crack of dawn. The sun’s shining, birds are singing, homebodies and geezers getting their shopping done. Staring.”

The cleaner raises his arms, broadcasting his topless inked self. “I’m not about that half-sleeve shit, so a nice little ‘burb sees me. They know what it is.”

Flip. Then the cleaner hits the trigger, the light of the flame dances in his shades. “As I said - creepy.”

“Kobayakawa, you know he’s a bit of a hero in the underground. Shujin takes kids other schools won’t, for a price. Our kids, and this kid that got kicked out of Inaba. But….”

The cleaner sets the lighter down and his hand covers his shades, head tilting down. “‘Keys are in the flowerpot. Don’t make a mess.’ That’s what he said on the phone, the principal of a school.” 

“I walk in and this kid’s fucking sitting on the floor alone eating instant ramen for breakfast.”

The cleaner takes his shades off and covers his eyes. Goro has to resist tapping his foot several times.

“I’m glad he’s not the principal anymore. Even if I have to find another school.” The cleaner finally says.

When the cleaner’s breathing has evened out some Goro continues, “what happened at the lab?”

The cleaner shakes his head. “It was the worst.”

“You’re yakuza,” Goro says flatly.

He keeps shaking his head and lets out a shuddering breath. “I missed my kid’s first day of school, at Shujin.”

Keeping the cleaner on topic seems to be a lost cause. Next to him Morgana has stopped fawning over the lighter, storm clouds gather in his big blue eyes.

“But the offer was too good, and my kid keeps eating so.” The cleaner does a jerky shrug, head tilted away from Goro. 

“Still in the same uniform. Torn in the back, from last time.” The cleaner breathes in deep through his nose. “They knew I was coming somehow, nearly out by the time I found them.” 

“Why was it the worst?” Morgana asks in a tiny voice.

“Seeing that kid running around got me all messed up. I think it was the same for him too because he tripped when he saw me. I wasn’t after him though.” He reaches for the lighter but aborts the action halfway through. “I don’t like hurting women and kids.”

Morgana looks like he has something to say, Goro pantomimes a shush at him.

“I lost my cool,” The cleaner’s shoulders begin to tremble, his hand goes back to his eyes. “Kid’s clawin’ at his back until all there’s all these goddamn flowers, and then he’s ripping those out. The sounds.” The cleaner mutters. “She starts helping him and they’re both on the floor ripping flowers out of this kid’s back.”

What does he even make of this. 

“There were two bullets in his back,” Goro says. Morgana stares at him.

“It was weird,” the cleaner sighs. “I lost my cool, he saw me aim at her and.” He nods his head and makes a motion with his hand like the final lush at the bar. 

“But she,” he laughs mirthless. “The second he goes limp on her I try again but she’s holdin’ him up like a riot shield. I had to get a closer shot.” He squints and quirks his lip. “I’m not sure what happened after that. She held his body up higher and the last thing I remember is his back.”

Leaning back the cleaner gestures around the room, the top floor of a once grand now derelict soapland. Various women are painted on the cracked walls. The cleaner points to where a fourth wall was supposed to be but had been blasted away. Goro recalled seeing it from the outside of the palace, about a quarter of the building had been destroyed.

“When I came to that wall was gone, my kid’s momma was painted on that wall.”

Morgana bristles. “Well that’s what you get for being a bad person!”

“Yeah?” Another mirthless laugh. “Say do you two know that marsh by Inokashira park, close to the zoo?”

“Yes,” Goro says tightly. That marsh and the “abandoned” green oar house next to it. Goro may have done some reconnaissance.

“You saw it?”

Goro nods.

“This nothing to you comin’ from me. I can hear it in your tone, but.”

His legs itch. Goro is patient, but he has his limits.

“The boss man. No,” the cleaner waves his hand. “The whole UFP top brass,” he chuckles dry and raspy. “Thought we were saved when that scandal hit Shido but he just poofed it away. Came back stronger.”

Goro’s chest stings.

The cleaner looks up at him, right to his eyes. “You gonna visit ‘em like this too? All of them?”

“What’s he talking about?” Morgana whispers, tugging at his sleeve. Goro doesn’t budge.

The cleaner looks to the ruins of the fourth wall then shakes his head, “a kid shouldn’t have a father like this.”

“Still a father,” Goro says under his breath.

“Not for long.” The cleaner turns and looks up at Goro, eyes strained pink and smile wry. 

At that moment the entire room trembles.

Morgana yelps, clutching the lighter tight to his chest. “Crow we gotta leave! Can you drive?”

“Excuse me!?”

Morgana does a flip and a huge black van poofs and clunks before him. “Hurry!”

Goro looks back, the hallway they came through is too narrow to drive the van through. The cleaner sits on the floor calmly playing with the lighter once more. Regarding him with one last fleeting glance, Goro climbs into the van and floors it for the open air.

***

Morgana recovers first, while Goro only just reacquaints himself with direction and gravity. 

“What’s this?”

His voice sounds muffled. Goro looks down to find Morgana holding a plastic baggy full of huge staples. He can’t be sure but he has a hunch.

“Morgana put that down!” Goro hisses.

“What is it? Can we sell it?” 

“No it’s personal, really personal! Put it down,” Goro pleads. He snatches the baggy when Morgana drops it. “Headed back to Leblanc I take it?”

“Yeah,” Morgana says slowly, staring off into the distance.

Goro looks at him and sighs. “I’ll come with. I can give you a lift.” 

“You didn’t take the train?” Morgana looks up, tail swishing fast.

“Oh no. I found this weather too wonderful to pass up,” Goro replies right as rain.

“Wow!” Morgana yells, attracting the notice of nearby officer. Goro adjusts his cap and shushes Morgana. 

Donning a bright red hoodie patterned with bright yellow stars when he wanted to lay low in Shinjuku wasn’t a great decision, he was a better enough man to admit that much. However he wasn’t _shouting_ at least.

“Ren doesn’t ride bike at all!” Morgana chirps leaping onto the bike seat.

“Don’t attack him when he can’t defend himself,” Goro says softly. Booping Morgana’s nose before digging his foldable helmet from his briefcase.

“Goro you’re the only one here wearing a helmet, you totally stand out.”

Goro pauses mid-clasp of the chin strap. “I usually don’t but this journey was too long to risk it.”

Morgana shakes his head. “You’re good in a fight but we really gotta work on your thieving! Your sneaking!”

Goro rolls his eyes, “I’m not a thief.” He looks down when he doesn’t get a response, finding Morgana turning round and round in the wire basket. “Is something the matter?”

“Uh,” Morgana turns again. “This basket’s kinda stiff, and my claws keep getting stuck in it.”

“My apologies, I hadn’t anticipated such a use for it.”

Morgana groans. “A thief’s gotta be prepared Goro!”

“And a detective,” Goro interrupts, grabbing the hem of his hoodie. “Prides himself on improvisation,” he finishes, smoothly pulling off the hoodie. Morgana squishes to the side of the basket as Goro tamps the hoodie down. “How’s this?”

Morgana’s claws are in the hoodie already. It’s too late to regret. Goro regrets anyway.

“Yeah this is great! It’s warm and really soft.”

Maybe it’s not so bad. 

The air remains muggy when the sun goes down, but there’s a chill in the air that tells Goro the worst of it is over. Once he hits top speed on the bicycle, he forgets the humidity all together.

“Goro this is amazing!” Morgana crows, “I’m the king of the world!” He yells, bracing his paws on the front edge of the basket and standing _way_ too high.

“Morgana sit down!” Goro shouts over the wind, “say you never told me how you converse with Ren.”

“What!?” Morgana yells, standing even taller to where he threatens Goro’s vision. “I can’t hear you!”

“Sit down I can’t see!”

As they draw closer to Yongen Goro slows down. The mugginess returns, every concern of Goro’s returning with it.

“Morgana?”

Morgana looks up.

“Will it work?” Goro asks, voice but a decibel above the tires spinning.

“It should.”

Goro winces.

“We did everything right, it should work.” Morgana affirms. It sounds like he’s saying it for himself just as much as Goro.

The windows are dark when when he pulls up to Leblanc, trying the handle yields predictable results. “Um.”

Morgana leaps out of the basket, “I’ll take care of this.”

Goro watches until he slinks around the corner.

And waits.

And waits.

He pulls out his phone. Setting off Ren’s ringtone posed a risk of noise complaints but he’ll cross that bridge when they get there.

The cafe lights flicker on.

Goro watches Morgana bounding down the stairs carrying several thin metal implements in his mouth. Stares as Morgana leaps onto the doorknob and picks it open.

“What happened to Ren?” Goro asks as he walks in. 

“Dunno didn’t see him.” 

Surveying the attic reveals it to be the same as the last time he was here. The makeshift bed in the corner is still set up where Ren’s barrel was.

“He was here when I left.” Morgana says, frowning as much as a cat can.

The tarp crinkles noisily as Goro steps onto it and looks around. Ren’s barrel sits in the corner, cloistered by leaves and illuminated by the soft glow of humidifiers. Also empty.

It’s a start so he walks towards it.

“Ow.”

Goro retracts his foot with enough force he nearly topples backward.

“Ren? Is that you?”

“That’s my leaf.” 

Goro looks down to find it sure is and gingerly steps back. Several humidifiers have been pushed to this corner for light. Bits of twine and scrap metal litter the tarped floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Lockpicks.”

Goro peers down at Ren. Rolling around on the floor less than half dressed allegedly making lockpicks.

A long minute passes where Goro considers asking something, saying anything at all, but it’s been such a long day.

“Mona said you’ll need them.”

Goro squawks and looks incredulously to Morgana. “You told him?”

“Uh I gotta go!” Morgana mumbles before bounding for the window and diving out.

Goro looks back to Ren. Ren shrugs.

“Does this room have curtains?” Goro asks as a leaf shifts and the moon momentarily blinds him. Settling on the floor by Ren, a huge leaf covers his face.

“Thanks,” he says. The leaf trembles.

“It tickles when you talk.”

Goro blows against it.

“Stop,” Ren grumbles, but the leaf stays.

“Make me,” Goro sticks his tongue out to blow a raspberry. By the time he realises what he’s doing it’s too late.

There’s a yelp and the leaf shoots away from him. The temporary darkness is enough to have the return of the light sting Goro’s eyes. There’s a faint colour to Ren’s cheeks, or it’s the glow of the humidifier.

“Make me,” he says again. Poking another nearby leaf before Ren manually yanks it away. The corners of his lips quirk, and he can’t quite keep the laugh out of his voice.

Ren moves slowly like a spindly dying spider, makes the sounds one would theoretically make too. It fuels Goro, the shaky aura pouring off Ren makes him too powerful. Full on grinning now he plants a hand down next to Ren’s head. “Not going to shove more leaves in my face?” 

A power that evaporates in hyper seconds when Ren squirms giving Goro too much zipper for comfort and he panics. The next thing he registers is his left arm and lots of bent scrap metal squished under him.

“What’s going on here!?” Morgana’s arrival is heralded by a loud thump on the windowsill and footsteps much louder than Goro expects from a cat that size.

“Uh,” Goro says. He turns around the best he can with Ren crushed to his chest. Which is not much. Ren makes a sound like a sad chew toy deflating.

He panicked. 

“I panicked,” Goro mumbles. 

Morgana holds up a paw.

“Both of you off the floor right now! Hands to yourselves!”

***

“Um Mona…”

“Morgana this is kind of…”

“Opposite ends of the bed until you’re married!”

They end up on the makeshift bed with Morgana sitting prim on Goro’s hoodie between them. Any time Goro moves too far away from the wall Morgana hisses at him. Likewise for Ren at the end of the bed. 

“Morgana that’s a rather myopic view of relationships don’t you think?”

“Goro!” Morgana gasps. “Ren cover your ears.” 

Ren obediently floats two leaves to his ears.

“Such language!” Morgana scolds, “so unbecoming of a phantom thief.” 

“I told you,” Goro sighs. “I’m not a thief.”

It’s a lost cause, Morgana’s tail is already in view before Goro finishes.

“Ren!” Morgana swishes his tail. “How was school?”

Ren shrugs. “Okay I guess.”

Morgana seems focused on Ren, Goro watches a lone flower slither across the sheets.

“Whaddya mean okay?”

“Wakaba said it’s complicated.”

The flower baps his leg, tracking pollen onto his white jeans. Ren’s eyes gleam, or it’s the moonlight.

“Complicated?” Morgana tilts his head. “It’s just school isn’t it?”

Goro curls his pinky around the stem and looks to Ren. “What’s going on?”

Morgana turns around. “Wakaba took this guy and Futaba to check out school.”

At Ren’s giggle Morgana halts mid-sentence. Goro watches the cat’s pupils drift to where he swings the flower. It feels like Ren swings the limb with him, it’s hard to tell.

“Oi! No canoodling!” Morgana screeches.

“Canoodling?” Goro deadpans, looking Morgana in the eyes. He gradually pulls the stem closer to himself, only stopping when Morgana sounds a second away from screaming awake the dead. 

Scooping Morgana into his lap he brings them back to the dreaded topic.

“What school?” He asks.

“Shujin.”

Goro’s hand stills on Morgana’s head. A bad feeling, like celebrating the centennial of the Titanic by sailing the same route. It’s awfully superstitious of him, but he can’t shake this bad feeling. The petals of the flower he unhanded trail absently in one spot on his arm.

“After all that’s happened?”

Ren wrinkles his nose. “Why not?”

What he’d taken to be absent trailing, Goro now recognises to be calculated tracing.

“You take chances,” Ren says slowly. “All the time.” 

Over and over, a specific pattern.

“I like that,” Ren says, raising his head to look at him, “And…” 

The petals continue.

_‘I’_

_‘L’_

_‘I’_

_‘K’_

_‘E’_

…

..

.

They trace slower and slower, then finally stop. Ren looks away.

Goro soaks it in: the lingering tingle on his arm, Morgana’s warmth on his lap, and the solid wall against his back. 

He resumes petting Morgana, “Ren.”

Ren peeks up.

Goro lets out a breath, unaware of when he held it. Making his voice only a little trembly.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

***

The next morning finds Goro waking up to something cool and waxy over his face and a warm weight on his chest. The scent of curry and coffee wafting up from below. 

Goro pulls the leaf off his face only to be blinded by the sun. Atop him Morgana stretches out and yawns wide. The barrel bedside sits empty. Sleeping in a barrel sounds like postural murder, then again whether Ren has a posture or bones or organs at all is up for debate. 

And the last time Goro tried to check.

He swallows, he would attempt to get up except-

Morgana stands up and stretches before settling back on Goro’s chest. Sharp claws pierce the blanket, digging into his skin through the whole action.

“Morgana you’re heavy,” he grunts.

When Morgana doesn’t respond he tries another angle. “Ren’s allergic to you isn’t he? Are you allowed on the bed?”

“Ren doesn’t go near the bed,” Morgana says without moving an inch. “Usually.”

There’s venom in that last word. “Excuse you he stayed in the barrel last night,” Goro says. Absolutely not digging himself deeper.

The stairs creak and Morgana immediately moves to settle on Goro’s lap instead. He glares daggers at Morgana’s back before sitting up. More leaves make themselves apparent, leaves that had been crumpled under him. Following the stems reveals jagged points of separation. Evidently Ren has been awake long enough to fully dress himself in the warm calm tones of his barista attire.

Goro feels like a clown with his ridiculous casual trainers by the bed.

“You could have woken me up,” Goro mumbles wringing the thin blanket in his hands.

Ren shakes his head and comes to a stop before the bed. They both look at Morgana enjoying his pretend sleep too much.

“The space behind me should be fine,” Goro says wearily.

For a moment it’s like he can see the gears churning in Ren’s mind. 

“Here,” Ren drops a small bag next to Goro. “Come downstairs.”

“Are you sure?” Goro raises a brow.

“They know.” Ren says like it’s not a problem and leaves. Now for the actual problem.

“Morgana could you please get off of my lap?”

Morgana squints up at him with one eye. “Ren ripped off parts of himself so you could keep sleeping.”

“As much as I like you,” Goro starts cheery but as soon as he hits the word ‘like’ it all comes back to him. What he had said. Out loud.

Yanking the pillow he slumps back hard enough to rattle the milk crates composing the bed. He slams the pillow over his face. 

“Goro what are you doing!?” Morgana gasps and Goro feels him digging claws into the pillow trying to pull it away. “Fine I’ll get off! Just stop that.”

Extracting himself from one pot of hot water only lands him in another.

Sojiro looks up when Goro walks into the cafe, Wakaba maintains focus on her coffee. Goro stands in the doorway, clad in a plain t-shirt, gym shorts, and ridiculous clown man shoes. The only item he claims ownership to is the most offensive part of the ensemble.

There may be time to escape through the window yet.

“Good morning,” he says meekly.

“Morning.” Sojiro returns to manning the coffee setup.

Before the silence can suffocate him further Goro ducks into the restroom. As he shuts the door it’s like he stepped into a weak vacuum, which he’ll gladly take all the way to the bank and cash it. 

“...Did okay...placement… huge gaps…”

Except he can strain his ears all he wants, he can’t hear the conversation.

“...Lower grade… safer...”

“...Futaba… higher…”

“That’s alright isn’t?” Comes Sojiro’s voice, much easier to pick up. “Probably need each other.”

There’s soft laughter and more whispering. It feels like he’s hearing something intimate, that he shouldn’t be privy to. Goro cranks the faucet to rinse the cleanser off, it drowns out Wakaba’s quiet voice. Face clean he towels himself dry at a snail’s pace.

He emerges refreshed, if he ignores his outfit.

“Curry should be ready soon,” Sojiro announces. “We have some extra slippers on the shelf upstairs.”

Goro graciously accepts the tip.

***

Goro sits on the barstool next to Wakaba, wearing civilian clothes save for borrowed slippers. There’s something he should be doing but he’s just too fresh from sleep to tackle it right now.

A coffee appears before him and he paws at it, only for Ren to tug it away by the saucer when he touches the handle.

“Cut that out,” Sojiro grunts. “Leave a growing lad to his breakfast.”

“I grow too,” Ren pouts.

“Grow any more and you won’t fit in that barrel,” Wakaba says from behind her laptop.

Goro sees the moment where Ren reconsiders blowing a raspberry and wanders back to the kitchen. Leaving the cafe to fall into silence once more. Goro looks about the cafe, locking on to the sign above reading ‘Lotus Curry ¥800’. 

“I have a strange question.” 

“Yours hasn’t got any lotus in it,” Sojiro answers.

Goro’s shoulders unwind.

“Any other allergies or something? Ren mentioned you don’t eat lotus. There’s a tiny bit of dairy in there if that’s no good.”

“No nothing like that,” Goro waves a hand. He touches his thumb and index finger to his chin and another thought strikes him.

“Why lotus curry?”

“Some lifestyle changes happened, and we have a lot of them in the house,” Wakaba stops typing briefly. “Not from Ren, my daughter’s hobby.”

That raises another question, Goro twiddles his thumbs attempting to solve the verbal rubiks cube known as phrasing.

“Are they edible?” He asks in a tiny voice tentatively pointing Ren in the kitchen. “The seeds and roots he grows.”

“Your breakfast is scientifically perfect,” Wakaba says after a pregnant pause. “You should eat it while it’s warm.”

Goro turns back to his plate. Ambience composed of soft simmering and the clacking of plates isn’t enough to fill the empty cafe. Ren isn’t far but he’s preoccupied, leaving Goro to fend for himself. 

“Morgana!” Sojiro calls towards the stairs. He doesn’t raise his voice much but Goro’s shoulders still jump.

“Breakfast,” Wakaba follows up softer.

Morgana sounds much heavier than he looks as he runs down the stairs. Sojiro sets out a plate of something pink and white, Morgana hops onto the barstool next to him.

“Thanks boss!” Morgana says, proceeding to hoover up the contents of the plate.

Sojiro responds with a noncommittal grunt, and Goro wonders.

For the time being he follows Morgana’s example, if with more grace. Simultaneously mulling over an icebreaker for later.

He takes a bite. ‘Scientifically Perfect’ tastes alright. 

He takes another bite.

***

“Oi!” Sojiro calls out to the kitchen, where Goro peeps a bit of fluffy black hair. “We’re low on oyster sauce. The convenience store doesn’t stock it, you have to go to the Chinese shop.”

Ren walks over and stoops a bit, allowing Sojiro to hang a small pouch around his neck. “Get yourself a snack while you’re at it. Don’t forget to get one for your…”. Sojiro’s beady little eye hones in on Goro. “ _Friend_ ,” he says in regular cadence.

Sojiro moves to raise the counter, Ren limbos under it anyway and tugs at Goro’s sleeve.

“Give him a break, you’re big enough to go alone.” Sojiro clicks his tongue.

Now Goro witnesses where Ren forgoes holding in the metaphorical blown raspberry. Each creaky step banging under his steps and he runs up the stairs, a few seconds of echoing quiet, then more banging as he comes back down.

“Whuh?” Morgana groans blearily, lower half dangling precariously for Ren holds him as if Morgana were the infant lion king. “Ren what’s happening? Is everything okay?”

“Akechi what do you want?” Ren asks him.

“Anything from the bakery,” Goro says absently, nearly spitting out his coffee when Ren says ‘okay’ with a bit too much gusto and starts running Morgana in tow.

“Something sweet!” Goro yells to Ren. “No coconut!”

The loud jangling of the bells on the door cuts him off, Sojiro sighs and palms his face. 

In the void, Goro’s mind drifts back to the problem of the morning.

Think as he did all breakfast he never did come up with that icebreaker. Taking a page from Wakaba’s book, he shows his hand and passes her a crumpled paper over the counter.

She spares it half a second of attention before beckoning Goro upstairs.

Wakaba settles on the rickety desk chair, leaving him to sit on the makeshift bed. Holding up the paper, she goes through a half-second maelstrom of faces. Settling somewhere Goro would call resignation. She begins to narrate. 

“A cadaver,” she says like she’s saying it for the thousandth time. “Preferably intact and in good health.”

A request form. Found in a lab marked by a green oar house near the marsh and zoo in Inokashira Park. 

“Was this ‘pulling the trigger’?” Goro watches her look away. He’s done it again, upsetting someone. It’s only a question, he frowns. “Why make such a request at all?”

“The lab had more resources than I could have dreamed of,” she looks down. “I would do anything to keep my access. That’s what I thought.”

“Follows instructions, can use the metaverse, and can’t be head-jacked themself. Those were the directives,” Wakaba says. “I sent a request for a donor body or an android shell. Sojiro was the one expecting a brat that day, imagine my surprise.”

Something clicks. “The ‘child’ Sojiro mentioned at the shrine.”

She nods, what are the chances.

“Sometimes,” Wakaba says in a tiny voice, “I can see him, and he’s really mad at me.”

Goro remembers a huge black spire towering over Yongen.

“This is where it ends then?” Goro sounds a touch frantic, even to himself. “Raking yourself over the coals forever?”

“Until I don’t need to worry about the United Front,” Wakaba grips the crumpled paper tight, “or anyone else coming after my family anymore.”

“Why a flower?” Goro asks at long last.

“A flower won’t turn up in the metaverse. No back door,” she purses her lips for a moment. “Flowers inspire kindness in people, it’s scientifically proven,” Wakaba betrays no sign of chatting nonsense. “I hoped it might change whoever commissioned the project, even just a little bit.”

Goro clenches his fist and bites the inside of his cheek.

“But people who care for flowers at all wouldn’t do this in the first place.”

He can’t see her smiling, but somehow he still feels its presence.

“Wouldn’t you say so Akechi?”

At that moment the stairs creak, and Sojiro comes into the attic way too early to have started at the bottom.

“The kids brought back a shaved ice maker and sparklers,” he says scratching the his beard. “You two come down whenever.”

They listen to him hobbling back down the steps.

“Let’s pick this up another time?” Wakaba says, adjusting her shawl.

***

Goro feels cold and sleepy.

The air con remote is somewhere. Off having a fun adventure without him Goro presumes. It would be all over for it once he gathered the energy to find the remote.

Blessedly he only has to worry about regular work tomorrow. He should be preparing to sleep, should be giving the UF’s party lines a once over. Should be a number of things.

Should be looking for that air con remote.

Instead he’s here sinking further into this armchair.

On the side table his phone buzzes to life. It’s too late for regular callers.

Goro grabs his phone and and swipes to answer. Too late for regular callers and too late for pleasantries. He doesn’t bother with a greeting.

Neither does the other party. There’s an awful moaning sound in the background. Goro eventually realises it to be sobbing.

“About Kurusu Akira. Some new information has come to light.”

Goro hears a man scream.

_“Oh god that lady and that weird kid! Both times I-“_

Whoever’s screaming in the background howls even louder. It cuts off with a loud splash.

There’s a long sigh, the boss’s voice is distant. “We’re done here, he’s worthless now.” He resumes speaking to the phone. “A retainer of the party has had a, ah - change of heart.”

More screaming and splashing interrupts the boss.

“I’ve been informed that this behaviour could be metaverse related. Any ideas Akechi?”

It’s too late and Goro should be a number of things.

“Not a clue sir,” Goro says, careful to remove his voice from how he feels. His heart stops for a harrowing moment.

“I see. Some curiosities were found in his residence.”

Goro shifts a piece on the twelfth dimensional chess board. “Curiosities?”

“A card,” he scoffs. “Some childish vigilante poppycock. I’ll have it sent to the precinct.”

A final blood curdling shriek sounds before there’s a loud splash and gurgling. The line goes dead. 

A weight disappears, another weight appears in its place, Schrodinger's weight. Nonetheless it’s a load off of him. Rising from the armchair, Goro wanders off to find the air con remote.

***

Later, when he lies awake in bed it hits him.

_‘Not for long.’_

Goro clutches his pillow tight, and wonders if this is what doing the right thing feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr morooka more like mr morganaoka (I’m sorry)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But I still say they’re flowers.”

“Why here?” Ren asks.

“Where?” Goro looks across Inokashira Park lake, taking a long sip of thermos coffee.

“It’s always this bench.”

“Is it?” 

“This place feels familiar.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Goro grunts noncommittally. 

Ren slumps against him with enough force to bowl Goro over. He spends a while gaining back his posture. Eventually reclaiming his original position, give or take a ton.

It’s faint at first, so much so that he assumes it’s his own pulse. Focusing on the feeling, he narrows it down to a drumming against his arm.

“Is that you?” Goro whispers, “you do have a heart.”

“Of course I do!” Ren puffs his cheeks and stomps. Narrowly avoiding Goro’s unblemished shoes.

“No,” Goro laughs. “I meant the organ. An actual human heart.” 

Gentle but firm he touches the back of his hand to Ren’s chest and it’s racing, hard enough he can feel it through his gloves. Fluttering under his knuckles. “It’s beating so fast,” he says softly. “Are you nervous?”

Ren raises his own hand and Goro moves so Ren’s hand can settle next by. For a brief second Goro witnesses the ghost of crimsons passed on Ren’s cheeks before Ren gasps and his eyes go wide.

“Butterflies…!” Ren gasps.

“That’s not how the saying goes.”

Ren punches his arm away.

Before Goro can do something rash, while the sting in his wrist sinks in, Ren yanks the back of his shirt up to his shoulders. His hands dart to the zipper and pull.

“Ren?” Goro feels a bit of a panic coming. Ren keeps going like he really intends to open up in public. “Ren what are you doing?”

The pitch of his voice shoots up with his alarm.

Ren turns to him. “Help.”

“What?” Goro groans and quickly looks around. They’re good, for now.

Standing up he moves to shield Ren’s back from view. Deliberately turning his face away from Ren’s back and closing his eyes, he takes the zipper and pulls it all the way down.

Something flutters against his face. A lot of somethings.

Goro opens his eyes. Green, black, and blue are the colours of the sky.

A blue and black butterfly lands on his nose and it tickles. Goro takes his seat next to Ren, there’s too much going on here for him to shield. If people know what’s good for them they’ll stay away from here.

Goro wonders what it’s like to know what’s good for himself.

“Are you okay?” Ren asks, voice level like he’s offloaded all his alarm onto Goro. “You look pale.”

“Don’t.” Goro takes a shallow breath, the butterfly inches higher up his face. “Don’t worry about it.”

They sit there for a while, quiet. It doesn’t feel quiet though, what with all the butterflies. It itches where a few butterflies decide to roost on his arms and shoulders. Goro swears there’s one waddling around his hair, he knows it.

“Are they all out?”

“Who knows.”

“Check!”

Trembling fingers reach towards Ren’s back then stop.

His gaze falls on a small butterfly perched precariously on one of Ren’s cowlicks. One moment it’s there, the next it’s gone. The bounce in Ren’s hair the only evidence that butterfly ever was. 

The stitch in his chest untangles, allowing Goro to breath again.

“So.” He begins. Calmer, quieter, but not enough to introduce the topic at hand, and face and arms and on the shrubbery all around them.

“Found some caterpillars,” Ren twists a lock of his fringe, “they eat leaves.”

“Some?” Goro squawks incredulously. “How many-“ 

Goro shakes his head and clasps his hands together in front of his mouth. “How long ago was this?”

Ren sways a bit, twists his fringe faster. “I forgot.”

Long enough for them to become butterflies. He briefly considers looking up how long that is.

“Yo!”

Goro looks over to see two figures waving and running towards them.

“What’s up with all these butterflies?”

Ren shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Goro mutters darkly.

“Bit early for them isn’t it?” Ryuji continues with the butterflies. “Well I guess that’s global warming for ya.” Then Ryuji turns to face him, “anyways. You.”

“Me,” Goro responds primly.

“You’re having way too much fun on the TV,” Ryuji says glaring and jabbing a finger at his chest.

“Yeah!” Ann affirms, nodding dramatically. 

“Whatever do you mean?” Goro covers his mouth in mock horror and all but bats his eyelashes. A portrait enhanced by copious butterflies.

“You went in too hard that last interview,” Ann pouts. “Ren got kicked out of the classroom because your fans wanted his blood for drawing the symbol on the chalkboard.”

“Not my monkeys, not my circus.” Goro says jovially.

“C’mon scooch over a bit. Please?” 

They look over to Ryuji negotiating with a butterfly.

“Let Ryuji sit here too,” Ryuji’s hand moves to goad the butterfly into scooting over. The butterfly climbs onto his finger and Ryuji takes the now open seat next to Ren. “That works too.”

“Oh,” Ryuji’s shoulders jump. “Ren, fly check.”

Ren spreads his legs and looks down before Goro shoves his knees back shut. “We’re in public!” He hisses.

“Other fly buddy,” Ryuji says without missing a beat. “Big fly.”

Ryuji takes the initiative and pulls up the back zipper. “Oh hey one of them’s stuck inside, lemme just untangle it.”

“Be careful,” Goro warns.

“Yeah yeah,” Ryuji waves a hand.

“So you said you had some ideas of who we should go after next?” Ann says, picking up the slack. “There’s also some good stuff on the Phansite.”

“Yeah but we need to verify if those are in Mementos or palaces.” Goro cuts her off. “And if they’re palaces _I_ have to scout to make sure we don’t die.”

“Who’s this ‘I’?” Ryuji says, focusing on the task at hand.

“We’re strong!” Ann flexes and heartily slaps her bicep. “You shouldn’t underestimate us.”

Goro cheeks heat up. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Ann let him be, he probably thinks we’re stealing his thunder.”

“H-hey.” Goro is bad at this.

“Just messin’ around.” Ryuji gently extracts the slightly squashed butterfly. “It’s good we have you for balance ‘n stuff.” 

“Fly!” Ryuji whispers to the butterfly raising his hands, frowning comically when it doesn’t take off. Checking the space behind him before slumping back against the bench. “Like if it was just us four we’d prolly just be hot dogging it all day all night.”

“Phrasing!” Goro says, strained.

“Wait where’s Morgana?” Ann asks, looking around. 

Ren moves to stand and everyone on the crowded bench tugs him back down. 

Ann grabs Ryuji’s arm, “let’s go look for him!”

“C’mon I just sat down.” Ryuji whines.

“Didn’t you say you wanted a soda?”

“Oh shit yeah.”

There’s a sharp whistle, Ann winks at him, then they’re off. Once again routing them to the start of the cycle. Inokashira Park in spring, Ren, and himself.

“So have you decided on contacting Akira’s family?”

“They don’t know Amamiya Ren.”

Goro raises an eyebrow, “oh you actually went with Amamiya?”

Ren nods, “you’re good at names.”

Well Goro has some experience with the matter. 

“What about you?” Ren counters. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, the advent of the Phantom Thieves appears to have pushed back my expiry date. Quite pleased with me as a Phandom incendiary in fact.”

Ren leans in and lightly shakes his arm. 

“Just kidding!” Goro chirps airily.

When Ren’s gloomy expression doesn’t change he sighs. “We’ll be fine, we have that backup plan don’t we? Although…” Goro clasps his hands together. 

Truly he had taken for granted how little he could see around the walls in his heart. He misses them more often than he cares to admit.

“I told you my original plan.”

“Yeah.”

Ren is a good listener, because if someone told Goro what Goro told Ren he would have laughed them out of the room.

“Stealing his heart would accomplish the same, with more practical results even.” 

It’s no mere lip service. He had thought about it, a distant future where their scrappy band gained enough power to raid the ark. A future that grew closer as the team gained strength outpacing his wildest expectations. How would he act in the aftermath? 

On his hands and knees spewing apologies and pouring tears? Like Kamoshida? Like the cleaner?

Every time he goes down the track it ends up in the same place, and he curls his lip in disgust. While the scope of this whole thing has expanded, he still… He still…

It’s then his old friend sadomasochism chooses to rear its head.

“What if I told you I don’t care about him going to jail. Don’t care for grovelling or vindication.” Goro smiles, “can you guess where I’m going with this?”

“Goro…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs. It comes out choppy and a pitch too high. Every second of silence after the laugh only highlights how wrong it had sounded.

“Though, Ren.” He says, his voice sounds so loud to himself in the open air.

“Hm?”

“Stay away from the trains tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trembling as i post this i hope there isn’t too many mistakes orz. 
> 
> BLeegghhh there’s a ton of background info i didn’t include but i just couldn’t work out how to do it w/o way more dialogue infodumps and those are no fun >< Mistakes Were Made writing this but that’s what next time’s for eyyy
> 
> Chances are if ppl have questions i have answers but i feel like such a lame-o just writing it out ><><><
> 
> Also yellin bc I’ve neveR FINISHED A LONGASS MULTICHAP FIC IN MY LIFE AHHHHHHHH


End file.
